


Looming Gaia: Ghoul Beneath the Guise

by TheGreys (alienjpeg)



Series: Looming Gaia [25]
Category: Looming Gaia
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol, Blood and Violence, Captivity, Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Drama, Elves, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fantasy, Gore, Horror, Magic, Rape, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:41:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22280497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienjpeg/pseuds/TheGreys
Summary: One cold, harsh winter, a forlorn mortal girl is taken in by a clan of vampires. The clan master demands perfect grace and self-control from his underlings as fresh blood walks in their midst…But can he control himself?
Series: Looming Gaia [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/833844
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. The Perfect People

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a direct prequel to “Monster by Moonlight”. It also ties in a little with “Dirty Animal”. Reading those first isn’t necessary though.
> 
> CONTENT WARNING: Please heed the tags for trigger warnings. This is an extremely dark story with disturbing themes (I mean, it’s about vampires, so…). If you’re sensitive to the content listed above, you should probably give this one a skip.

****

**[CHAPTER 1: THE PERFECT PEOPLE]**

_WINTER, 5967_

Taybiya was a city with no kingdoms attached. Hidden in the heart of Southriver Wood, it was a place where every individual ruled himself.

But those individuals were most often criminals fleeing the adjacent kingdoms, forsaken refugees, and desperate migrants clawing their way towards Folkvar Kingdom to the north. No one _chose_ to live in Taybiya—this city was a predator that preyed on strays and trapped them between its teeth.

Such a lawless bed of anarchy was miserable to all but the Dusk family. They seemed to thrive while everyone around them only deteriorated.

Dario Dusk walked these streets on gleaming black shoes, holding a brass cane in his hand. His fine suit of black and gold was a contrast to the rags of the peasants around him. Upon his head was a matching top hat, his long, jet hair spilling down his shoulders in perfect waves. His complexion was healthy and tanned, despite the dreary season.

His wife, Ivy, walked by his side. She was no less elegant than he, with porcelain-white skin and long, golden hair twisted into curls. Her hourglass figure was only accentuated by a corset and a long, red dress. A slit was cut clear up to each thigh, revealing her sheer stockings beneath.

She and Dario strolled through the red light district after midnight, drawing stares wherever they went. They were wealthy, they were beautiful, they were clearly born of a higher bloodline than anyone else in this crumbling town…

Yet robbers and lowlifes kept their hands to themselves, letting the couple pass without incident. There was something about Dario and Ivy—perhaps their confident gaits or the alertness in their eyes—that discouraged grubby, snatching fingers. They were as captivating as roses, as untouchable as thorns.

The couple stopped at a tavern. The building was but a patchwork mass of wooden boards upon a stone foundation, crooked and half-sunken into the earth. Dario pushed the door open and beckoned Ivy inside.

He politely removed his hat as he stepped in behind her, nose wrinkling at the stench of sweat and tobacco. He briefly fanned the air with his hat, brown eyes discreetly scanning every patron in the room.

Before him was a sea of drunken fools and haggard wenches. Among them were humans, satyrs, dworfs, roshava, and fellow elves. After a long moment of careful deliberation, Dario took Ivy by the arm and led her towards a human male sitting alone at the back of the room.

The man stared into the bottom of his empty stein. The side of his stubbled face was marked by a tattoo of a snake, curving from his right cheek to his brow. He was overweight, balding, his clothes unwashed and in need of mending. If he was married once, he clearly wasn’t anymore, thought Dario.

So he approached the man with an easy smile, voice smooth as glass and dark as night when he said, “Winter is a difficult time, isn’t it, sir? Nights like these are so dreadfully cold and lonely. But they don’t have to be, you know…” He placed a hand on Ivy’s backside, pushing her closer to the stranger.

The man remained hunched over his empty drink. “I can’t afford a whore like that,” he grumbled, tipping his head towards Ivy. “Get lost. Let a man drink in peace.”

Pulling a flask from his coat pocket, Dario poured its contents into the man’s stein. “Ah, but I ask no coin from you, my good man. The first time’s always free,” he explained. Ivy slipped into the man’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her red, silken gloves extended to her elbows. She traced her silky fingertip along his tattoo.

The man arched his brows. “Free, huh? What’s the catch?” he queried.

Dario smiled and replied, “No catch. This lovely creature is yours to claim until sunrise, free of charge. Just come with us to our luxurious manor and we’ll show you the most exciting night of your life. She’ll steal your heart, guaranteed.”

Sighing through his nostrils, the man fell silent in contemplation. Ivy caressed his face, leaning in close to whisper in his ear, “You’re above all these haggard wenches, darling. Wouldn’t you rather be above me?” She punctuated herself with a wink, white smile lined with ruby-red lips.

Her perfume was intoxicating, her blue eyes gazing deeply into his own. There wasn’t a pore visible on her cream-white flesh. Everything about her drew the man in like the tide, and finally, he gave in to her pull.

The man knocked back his drink, sucking it all down in but a few gulps. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hairy arm and said, “Alright. You sold me. Can’t beat free, right?”

Dario smiled, offering a gloved hand. He helped the drunken man to his feet and the trio left the tavern. Two horses were hitched at the edge of town, both black as the night around them. Dario mounted one horse, Ivy and their client on the other, and together they rode down the forested path. A lantern dangled from Dario’s saddle, lighting the way.

Ivy wrapped her arms around the man and whispered sweet things into his ear until finally, they arrived at a modest castle nestled deep in the thicket. The man let out a low whistle as they crossed the courtyard. “Damn! Look at this place!” he exclaimed.

The castle stood three stories tall, built from an amalgamation of cobblestone, wood, and stone bricks. Some sections were new and pristine, others crumbling from neglect. It looked to be centuries old. Every window was protected by metal bars from the outside and blacked out by curtains from the inside.

The couple hitched their horses in the courtyard and led the man up to the front door. Dario knocked twelve times with the heavy knocker before simply opening the door with a key. He turned to the man with a wink, said, “Just making sure everyone’s decent first. You understand.”

The man chuckled, “Sure, sure!”

Dario gestured to the open entryway and Ivy pulled the man through with a giggle. The door slammed behind them.

*

_LATE_ _WINTER, 5970_

It hadn’t snowed in Southriver Wood for several years, but yesterday’s storm brought in everything missing from years passed. It violently stripped every tree of their leaves and draped their naked branches with white frost. The frost covered every blade of grass, every twig in the forest. The storm blanketed the ground with layers of snow that rose to the girl’s knees.

She was but a young elfette, wandering down the road by herself. She left a trail in her wake, but fat flakes were still falling and quickly covering her tracks. The night air was freezing her teartracks, the wind whipping through her tattered, woolen sweater. She lost one shoe a long time ago. Now her sock was wet and her toes were numb.

The girl could not go on. She collapsed in the snow somewhere on the main road out of Taybiya. There wasn’t a soul around to save her or to witness her die in the cold. Her vision blurred, so she closed her eyes. She thought she heard a sound over the wind, faint and distant, like a horse plodding down the road. But the sound, along with everything else, slowly faded away.

*

A flame crackled in the hearth, bathing the room in its warm glow. There the little elfette awoke, white lashes fluttering as her surroundings came into focus. Before she last closed her eyes, she saw ominous winter woods looming around her.

She opened them to a spacious interior. The ceiling stretched high into a black abyss with a second-floor balcony overlooking the room. The girl grunted as she pushed herself upright. She was wrapped in several blankets of wool and fur, and her wet clothes had been replaced by a simple cotton gown.

Walls of stone surrounded her, decorated with all manner of tapestries, framed paintings, and mounted animal heads. Above the mantle was a large portrait of an elven man with long, black hair.

The girl realized she was sitting on a fine antique couch, surrounded by chairs and a table that were equally as fine. They were all upholstered in deep jewel tones, matching the rugs on the floor and the layers of curtains blocking every window.

“Oh, hello,” said a voice. The girl jumped with a start. She looked over the back of the couch, saw an elven woman walking through a doorway with a tray in her hands. Upon the tray was a glass of milk and two pieces of toast slathered with jam. The woman set the tray on the table before the girl and sat down beside her.

“How are you feeling?” she asked. The girl opened her mouth to answer, but her jaw just hung slack and silent. The woman was as flawless as a porcelain doll, not a single golden hair out of place. Her dress was sleek and sophisticated, made of red silk with black, lacey sleeves.

Breathlessly, the girl told her, “You look just like a princess! Are you a real princess, lady? Like in the storybooks?”

The woman cocked her head, a tiny crease forming between her brows. Then she laughed, high and bright as a bell. “No, dear girl, I regret to say I am not! Although my husband does own a castle, so perhaps that makes me some sort of queen. Queen Ivy…I like the sound of that!”

She chuckled. “Ah, but I jest. You can just call me Mrs. Dusk. Now, how do you feel? Can you move your fingers and toes for me?”

The girl pulled her blankets away, exposing her extremities as she wiggled them. “I feel much better now. I can move my toes again!” she reported.

Ivy smiled and said, “Very good! We were sure you’d lose them to frostbite! Here, I brought you some food to warm your belly.”

She pulled the tray closer to the edge of the table. The girl muttered a quiet “thank you” and picked up a piece of toast.

“Can you tell me your name?” asked the woman.

Crumbs flew forth as the girl replied over a full mouth, “I’m Lily.”

“Lily,” the woman repeated. “And how old are you?”

“Six and a half.”

The woman shook her head. “Only six years old, lying out in the wilderness all by yourself. You could have died, had my husband and I not stumbled upon you! Where on Gaia were your parents?”

Swallowing a bite, the girl mumbled, “They’re gone…”

“Gone? Gone where?”

“I dunno where my daddy is,” the girl told her. “But my mommy died from na-mo-na so I had to come live with my auntie in the city.”

The woman furrowed her brows. “Where was your auntie while you were freezing to death in the forest?”

“I dunno. She was being really mean! She tried to hit me with a sharp bottle, so I ran away. I want…” Tears suddenly welled in Lily’s eyes. Her voice cracked as she went on, “I want to go home, back to my old house! I want my mommy back!”

The toast fell from her hands, landing face-down on the fine upholstery. Lily buried her face in her hands and began to cry. The golden-haired woman pulled her into her arms and said softly, “There, there, little one. Go on and cry your tears. You’ve suffered so much in so little time, haven’t you?”

She wrapped Lily in a blanket once more, setting the fallen toast aside on the table. She went on, “Your parents are gone and your aunt is clearly unfit to care for you. So, I think it’s best if you stay with us until this is all sorted out. We’ll see that you’re fed and clothed. You’ll be well taken care of here.”

Lily said nothing. She only cried and cried, spilling her tears and mucus on the woman’s dress. Ivy stroked the girl’s long, damp hair. It was as white as the snow that nearly claimed her life, her flesh the color of sand. She was thin from malnourishment, though the same could be said for most children in Taybiya.

Her story saddened Ivy, but it did not surprise her.

The old, wooden stairway creaked with footsteps. A tan, long-haired elven man came down from the second floor, dressed in a black suit and shiny shoes. He approached the couch and Ivy told him, “Our little friend lived to see another day. Her name is Lily.”

Lily sniffled, wiping her tears away as she looked up at the man. He reminded her of a bronze statue, just as flawlessly beautiful as Ivy. Her eyes flicked towards the portrait hanging above the mantle, then back. He was the same man in the painting.

“Lily,” began Ivy, “this is my husband, Dario. You may call him Mr. Dusk. He is the master of this castle and the head of our family. He makes all of the important decisions.”

“Hello,” Lily greeted through her sniffles, offering a tiny wave. “Um, your castle is really neat, mister. And your wife is pretty like a princess, and really nice too!”

A reserved smile spread over Dario’s lips. “Yes, she most certainly is,” he said.

“She said I’m going to stay with you until everything is okay,” added Lily. Dario’s smile suddenly straightened.

His eyes darted towards Ivy, who stood up and said, “We’ll discuss this further. Stay here, Lily, and be sure to eat your food.” She gestured to the tray of food still sitting on the table.

Lily nodded. She picked up the second piece of toast while Ivy and Dario stepped into the adjacent dining room. A very long table stood before them, lined with twelve chairs. The room was black with total darkness, but that didn’t seem to deter the couple as they easily found their way to the back.

Dario pushed Ivy into the corner and rumbled, “It is not your place to make decisions like this. Why did you tell her she could stay?”

“Her parents are dead,” Ivy explained bluntly, “and her drunken aunt was beating her to death. That’s why she fled into the cold forest—she had nowhere else to go.”

“And why is that our concern? We’ve done our good deed, we’ve nursed her back to health. Now we shall take some of her blood, drop her on Mother Karenza’s doorstep and forget her.”

“My love,” argued Ivy, “you’ve been out hunting all night. It’s nearly dawn and you’re fatigued, you’re sore, you’re _grumpy_ …” She caressed his face, the palms of her silky gloves sliding along his jaw. Dario closed his tired eyes and leaned into her touch. “Perhaps exhaustion is impairing your judgment. There is a mortal in our domain with no strings attached, no family to search for her. She is young and impressionable. She is beautiful and she is an elf like us…”

“She is much too young to turn. She wouldn’t survive the infection,” said Dario.

“But she is mortal. Mortals _grow_ ,” Ivy told him, dragging her hands down his neck to his chest. “In, say, a mere four decades she will be in her prime.”

“And during those four decades, we will have to feed her, clothe her, teach her…She is a liability, Ivy.”

“Is she? Or is she an investment?” Ivy grinned. “She is no wretched, gin-soaked urchin. She has natural beauty, true sweetness and mortal charm. She can pull cattle into our pens and gold into our pockets with ease.”

Dario fell silent for a moment. Then he let out a sigh as he wrapped his arms around Ivy’s waist. “Is this your long-winded way of saying you’re overworked?” he asked.

Ivy kissed his cheek, replied, “It’s my way of saying our clan is ready to grow, and only a fool would let an opportunity like this pass by. I know you’re no fool, my love.”

Another silence passed as Ivy claimed Dario’s lips. He couldn’t help but give in to her, pushing her back against the wall. She giggled against his mouth, briefly withdrew and queried, “Please, can we keep her?”

“As if she’s a stray cat,” Dario mused between kisses. Finally he pulled away, dabbed his lips with a handkerchief from his pocket “Very well. I suppose she’ll earn her keep eventually. But she is your responsibility, and I’ll take no part in cleaning up after her.”

“Thank you, m—” Ivy began, but she was cut short when she heard little footsteps pattering on the stone.

Lily stood in the doorway, squinting in the darkness. “Um, Mr. and Mrs. Dusk? I need help! I spilled my milk on the floor, and I tried to clean it with the blanket but now the blanket is wet too! I’m sorry.”

Dario narrowed his eyes at Ivy. She offered a strained smile back. “Enjoy your pet,” he rumbled, slapping her behind before he disappeared through another doorway.

*

Ivy led Lily upstairs just as the sun began to rise. “You’ll meet the rest of the family tomorrow,” she told her, taking her through a door to a grand bedroom. “In the meantime, you will sleep here.”

“Wow,” Lily gasped, turning all around. The room was decorated in dark burgundy tones. The bed was big enough for three or four people, with an arching canopy enclosed by sheer fabric. A mahogany armoire stood against one wall, a bookshelf at another, all stuffed with dusty books.

Lily rushed towards the many curtains layered against the wall. Ivy recoiled, shielding her face with her arms when the girl drew them back.

Sunlight poured onto Lily’s face as she peeked outside at the courtyard. “It’s morning,” she noted. “It’s not time for bed.”

Ivy hurried towards her and quickly drew the curtains back over the window. “It is time for us. We Dusks are people of the night, and so are you as long as you’re under our roof,” she explained, ushering the girl towards the bed.

Lily climbed onto the mattress and settled under the layers of heavy, jewel-toned blankets. Ivy stroked her hair, smiling fondly as she told her, “There are just three rules we expect you to obey. The first: never go outside during the day. The second: never talk to strangers. And the third: never ask ‘why’.”

“Why?” asked Lily, blinking obliviously.

Ivy tucked her in and sighed, “It’s not for you to know, little one. No more questions from now on. Anything you are meant to know, we shall teach you. Now, rest well. There will be plenty to learn tomorrow.”

Ivy left the room. The light from the hallway disappeared when she closed the door, leaving the bedroom in darkness. Quietly, Lily crept out of the bed and tip-toed towards the window. She drew the curtain back just enough find her way, then began exploring the large room.

A few dresses were hanging in the armoire, though they looked very old and they were all too big for Lily. She pulled books off the shelf, but none of them had pictures. There was nothing under the bed but a metal pot, and the drawers in the bedside table were empty. A vanity stood in the corner. Its mirror had been removed.

Lily couldn’t find a single toy to play with, so she closed the curtain and crawled back into bed. She lie awake, thoughts racing and racing for hours until she finally grew tired. She fell asleep to the birdsong twittering softly outside her window.

*

Fitful dreams plagued Lily all night—or day, rather, for she woke up just as the sun was going down. She slipped out of bed and peeked into the hallway. The castle was quiet, no one to be seen. They must have been asleep, she thought, so she quietly made her way down the hall in search of the washroom.

To one side, she could see over the railing to the sitting room below. To the other side was an arch-shaped wooden door. She tried to open it, but it was locked, so she tried the door beside it. This door opened to a spacious room much like her own. The light from the hallway stretched to the large bed, spilling onto a gray face.

The face’s eyes snapped open, glowing bright red like two flames. It belonged to a man—an elf—who quickly tossed his blankets off and stood up in alarm. He was wearing a black robe, but Lily could see his feet, hands, and face were all the same pallid, gray tone. Such a tone wasn’t natural, nor were the spidery, dark veins stretching across his flesh. His eyes were ringed by bags, dark as coal.

He was no elf. He was far too ghoulish to be a person at all, and Lily shrieked in terror at the sight of him. She turned to run out the door, but immediately tripped on her own feet. She hit the stone floor. By the time she turned around, the ghoul was already kneeling before her, seizing the front of her gown.

“Don’t hurt me! Don’t hurt me, please!” Lily wailed, squirming in his grip.

The ghoul wore an angry scowl as he barked, “Stop all this noise, you’ll wake the whole castle! What are you doing up at this hour? Furthermore, what possessed you to _barge into my chamber_ at this hour?”

Lily froze, staring at the creature for a long moment. It had long, black hair and the same smooth voice as Dario. Surely it couldn’t be…

“Mr. Dusk?” she queried, her voice barely a whisper.

He furrowed his brow at her for a second. His eyes flicked down to himself, then back to her before he sighed, “Ah, you’ve caught me out of my guise. How unfortunate for both of us. One moment…”

He released her gown and buried his face in his glowing palms. When he pulled them away, he once again resembled the handsome elf Lily met yesterday. His lifeless skin flooded with rich color, spidery veins fading. He shut his red eyes tight. They were brown when he opened them again, his black scleras turning a healthy, elven yellow.

“My apologies. You should have never seen me that way,” he said. “That is precisely why you must knock before entering a room. You wouldn’t want to catch anyone looking _indecent_.”

The girl’s mouth was agape, still awestruck by his spell. “How did you do that? I mean, make yourself all pretty?” she asked.

“Simple magic, child,” Dario replied, pulling her to her feet.

“Magic? I wanna learn! Will you teach me how to be pretty too?”

Dario hesitated. “Someday, when the time is right, I certainly will,” he decided, “In the meantime, I want you to learn some basic manners! I ask you again, what were you doing in my chamber?”

“I was just trying to find the toilet,” Lily admitted. She looked down at her feet, and only then did Dario notice the puddle beneath her. She added, “Um, I don’t really need it anymore. But can I have new jammies, please?”

The man’s face contorted with disgust. “Don’t move,” he muttered, then he rushed back through the doorway of his room. Lily squinted in the darkness, saw him open a closet. She gasped at the sight inside, of another ghoul hanging upside-down by her feet. Her veinous, ghost-white arms were crossed over her chest.

But it was no ghoul. It was only Ivy, dressed in lacey lingerie with her golden hair pooling beneath her on the floor. She looked to be asleep, though how anyone could sleep in such a position baffled Lily.

Dario delivered a light, half-hearted slap to his wife’s face and said, “Get up. Your pet made another mess.”

Unfazed by the slap, Ivy simply yawned and stretched her arms to the floor. Then she bent in half and unshackled herself from the wall, smoothly cartwheeling out of the closet. When she turned to face Lily, her ghoulish ugliness had suddenly morphed into otherworldly beauty.

She swiped a silk robe off the bedpost, pulling it on as she approached the girl. “What’s wrong, little one?” she asked calmly.

Tears began welling in the girl’s eyes when she replied, “I had an accident, but I didn’t mean to! Am I in trouble?”

Ivy looked back towards Dario. He seemed to have no input in the matter, for he’d already settled back into his bed, pulling the blanket over his head to hide from the light. She quietly closed the door and told Lily, “No, you’re not in trouble. Come with me to the washroom and we’ll get you cleaned up.”

Lily followed Ivy down the long corridor. “Um, Mrs. Dusk?”

“Yes?”

“Why were you sleeping upside down?”

Ivy shook her head. “Remember the rules, Lily.”

“Oh!” The girl slapped her hands over her mouth. “No questions. I’m sorry.”

The little elfette was cleaned up, given a fresh gown and sent back to bed. She was hardly tired by then, so she paced around the room, peeking out the window every so often. She watched the sky grow darker and darker until she couldn’t see a thing outside.

She jumped when the doorknob turned and two elven women stepped inside. She recognized Ivy, but there was another elfenne beside her, fair of flesh and rust-red of hair. She wore a ruffled emerald-colored gown with flower patterns embroidered in the fabric. Her leather corset squeezed her waist tight.

“Lily,” Ivy began, gesturing to the stranger, “this is Vivianne. She is Mr. Dusk’s sister.”

Vivianne tipped her head with a smile. Her lips were painted dark brown with a similar pigment decorating her eyelids. Her braided hair was pulled into a circular loop behind her head, not a strand out of place.

Like the Dusk couple, she was flawlessly beautiful, though Lily wondered if it was true beauty or just a magical guise.

“Hello,” Lily greeted sheepishly, hugging her bedpost.

“You can just call me Aunt Vivi. Everyone does,” Vivianne told her. Then she pulled her hands out from behind her back, presenting a small lavender dress. “Anyway, I was rooting through my closet today when I found this old thing. Isn’t it precious? I think it would fit you just right.”

Interest piqued, Lily left the safety of the bedpost and approached her. She cautiously took the dress, turning it around in her hands. It was unlike anything she saw people wear in Taybiya. It was frilly and lacey with short, puffed sleeves. The ruffled skirt would reach just passed her knees.

“We’ll fetch more clothes for you later,” Ivy told her. “We Dusks like to conduct ourselves a certain way, you see. We can’t just step out of the castle looking like lowly vagrants! If you’re going to be one of us, you must first dress like us.”

“This is the prettiest dress I ever had,” the girl gasped. She hugged the garment close. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! Can I wear it now?”

Ivy said, “Please do. Breakfast is starting soon, and then you will meet the rest of the family. I want you to look your best and _behave_ your best, understand?”

“I will, I promise,” said Lily, already pulling off her gown. Ivy and Vivianne left the room, waiting in the hall until the girl stepped out.

“It fits!” Lily exclaimed, twirling in a circle. The ribbons at her waist swished around her.

Ivy gathered the ribbons, began tying them into a neat bow behind her back as she said, “Wonderful. Now we just need to do something about your hair. Vivianne, see if you can find the darling some shoes?”

Vivianne tipped her head before rushing down the hall. Ivy guided Lily back into her bedchamber, sitting her down at the vanity. She rummaged through the drawers, pulling out a brush, several hairpins, and various cosmetics. She laid them all out on the vanity and set to work styling Lily’s hair, pulling it into two conical buns atop her head.

“I wanna see,” said Lily. “Where did the mirror go?”

Ivy spoke over a pin she held between her teeth, “No questions, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.”

Ivy licked her fingers and used them to smooth down the girl’s unruly strands. She pulled a lock from each bun and twirled them tightly around her wet finger. When she released them, they dangled in front of Lily’s ears in neat spirals.

Standing a few paces back, Ivy tapped her chin as she admired her work. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “I think you could use a different color. Something bolder.”

“Pink!” the elfette blurted, bouncing in her seat.

Ivy shook her head. “Too unnatural,” she decided.

“Yellow!”

“What, and steal my look?” Ivy teased, tossing her own curls back.

“Um, blue?”

“No, people will think you’re a mermaid.”

“I want my hair to be polka dots!”

“You give me too much credit, darling,” Ivy told her, then her brows arched with an epiphany. Her red lips curled into a devious smile. She approached the girl and muttered, “Oh, Dario is going to hate this…”

She tapped her painted nail against the top of Lily’s skull. She left a black spot behind, which quickly began to grow. Within seconds, it consumed every strand of Lily’s white hair, turning it black as ink. Lilian winced as she tapped her eyebrows and eyelashes, and they too turned black.

Ivy stepped back again, covering her mouth with her fingers as she began to giggle.

Curiously, Lily pulled one of her curled locks in front of her eyes. “It’s black! Like Mr. Dusk’s hair!” she exclaimed.

“Yes, it is,” Ivy chuckled. “You look just like his daughter.”

“He has a daughter?”

“No. But if he did, she would certainly look like you. Those bumbling idiots in the city will be none the wiser.”

Ivy smirked, pleased with herself as she kneeled before the girl. She opened a metal tin with a powder puff inside. “Close your eyes and hold your breath. This stuff can be quite harsh on the organs.”

Lily obeyed, keeping herself still while Ivy powdered her face white, lined her eyes with dark liner, painted her lips red and colored her cheeks with rouge. “ _Now_ you truly look like a Dusk,” Ivy said proudly. She took the elfette’s hand and began leading her down the creaky stairs. “The family should just be sitting down to breakfast now. Do you remember the rules?”

“Don’t go outside when it’s daytime,” began Lily. “Don’t talk to strangers, and um, don’t ask questions.”

“Very good! Now, the third rule is the most important,” Ivy told her. “Do remember it well when you meet our family.”

*

The dining room was lit by candles, each one flickering away upon bronze sconces on the walls. Dario was seated at the head of the table, Ivy taking her place to his right. There was an extra mismatched chair to his left for Lily.

The other chairs gradually filled as more elves entered the room, laughing and chattering away. They set the table with tall bottles and glass goblets upon placemats. Lily looked down at her white shoes. They were a bit too small, crushing her toes together, and she wondered if anyone would notice if she slipped them off. She noticed Dario glowering down at her and decided not to chance it.

“My love,” said Dario to Ivy, “what happened to the girl’s hair?”

“I colored it,” Ivy told him casually, filling her goblet from a bottle of red wine.

Dario queried, “And from the entire color spectrum, you chose black?”

“I think she looks better this way.”

“She looks like my progeny!” the man hissed.

Ivy could contain her giggles no longer. “She does, doesn’t she? You two could have crossed the Yerim-Mor border together.” She showed her husband a sly smile. After a sip of wine, she added, “That’s what the Taybiyans will assume. No bothersome questions, no suspicious gazes...”

Dario’s expression softened. He muttered something under his breath and busied his lips with his goblet. Lily jumped as someone approached her from behind and set a plate and a glass in front of her. In the glass was water, and on the plate were orange slices, a stale biscuit, and a piece of meat she couldn’t identify. The last Dusk took their seat, but still, Lily was the only one with a plate.

They chatted and sipped their wine, each of them blessed with the same elegant allure and clad in spotless finery. Before long, Dario stood up and made an announcement. “Hear this, everyone,” he began. The chatter came to an abrupt halt.

He continued, “My dear family, as I’m sure you’re all aware, we have a new face in our midst. This child will be a valuable asset to the clan in time. But for now, she will need our guidance. We shall teach her our special way of life and protect her from the putrid filth that festers outside these walls. Everyone, this is Lilian Dusk. Lilian, your new family.” Dario swept a hand towards the table with a shallow bow.

The elves raised their goblets and greeted the girl all at once. Lily hesitated before tugging at Dario’s sleeve. She whispered, “Um, Mr. Dusk, my name is _Lily_.”

“Not anymore,” Dario told her. “That was your Taybiyan peasant name. Lilian is your lovely Dusk name. Much more sophisticated, don’t you think?”

Lily frowned. “But my mommy gave me that name…” she mumbled.

“Your ‘ _mommy’_ is rotting away in the soil, dear girl,” Dario told her flatly before sipping from his goblet. Lily stared at him through wide eyes, jaw fallen in shock.

He set his goblet aside and added, “You will never meet such an undignified fate, so long as you stay with us. We are powerful people. We can protect you from death itself! But you must do everything we say or else you will rot with your ancestors.”

He turned away with disinterest, waving towards her plate. “Now, get your fill while you can. We do not dine again until midnight.”

So many questions danced on the tip of Lilian’s tongue. But she remembered the rules and she knew now that if she didn’t follow them, she would die a terrible death like her mother. She picked up her fork and silently began to eat.

Over dinner, Ivy introduced Lilian to individual members of the family. She already knew Vivianne, who tended the gardens in the courtyard. She met Vivianne’s son and Dario’s nephew, Dimitri, next.

He was a tall, scrawny elf with long, dark hair in tight curls and a long, dark coat to match. He wore round spectacles on his face. He was the “dungeon keeper”, Ivy told her, but Lily did not know what that meant and she was not supposed to ask.

Next she met Dario’s mother, Morgana. Though elves did not wrinkle with age, Lilian could tell Morgana was in the winter of her life by the curve in her spine and the creak in her voice.

She was ivory-white from head to toe—pale-skinned with white hair and white eyes, wearing a modest white dress. Her hair was worn in a very high cone that reminded Lilian of a beehive, wrapped with red glass beads on strings. Morgana was the “ritual master”, which was another title that meant nothing to Lilian.

The rest of their faces and names became a blur. The elfette was already so overwhelmed with the events of the last few days. Ivy assured her that she would get to know them better over time, and after breakfast, led her into the sitting room. “I’d be happy to play music for you,” she offered.

A white violin was sitting in a corner beside an old piano. Ivy picked it up and rested it on her shoulder. Lilian sat in one of the fancy chairs, listening as the woman bowed the strings. The instrument produced a meandering, melancholy sound.

Lilian closed her eyes and let her imagination wander. The music took her into the night sky on the back of a feathery Pegasus, braying as it soared over the moon.

Music was a luxury in Taybiya. One could always visit the tavern and hear some drunken bard stumble over a lute, but refined skill and sophisticated melodies such as this were foreign to Taybiyans.

Ivy entertained the girl with music and stories until later in the night, when Dimitri came through the front door carrying a heavy sack in his hands. He turned the sack upside-down and shook everything out onto the sitting room floor. Wooden animals, plush toys, many dolls and their accessories poured out.

“All yours, rugrat,” Dimitri told her with a smirk.

“Toys!” Lilian shrieked, jumping up and down with excitement. She gathered several dolls and stuffed animals into her arms, hugging them tight. “This is the most toys I’ve ever seen in my whole life! Thank you, Cousin Dimitri!”

A warm smile crossed Ivy’s face as she watched Lilian play. Then she turned to Dimitri, asked, “And where did you find all this?”

Dimitri shrugged. “Some houses,” he replied vaguely.

“Oh, Dimitri, do be careful out there. Next time, just ask your uncle Dario for coin. There’s no need to take risks like this.”

“There’s no risk, Auntie. Those mouth-breathers in the outskirts wouldn’t see a dog if it bit them in the face,” Dimitri told her with a smirk, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. With that, he twirled around and disappeared in a puff of black smoke.

*


	2. Pig Bait

**[CHAPTER 2: PIG BAIT]**

_SPRING, 5974_

Life in Dusk Castle was not like life in Taybiya, or any of the little villages scattered around Southriver Wood. It was a village all its own, with its own culture and laws.

Lilian was adjusting quickly to life within its sturdy, stone walls. She had a whole wardrobe full of fancy dresses to match everyone else’s. The Dusks taught her to read and write, taught her basic mathematics too. Lilian was only ten years old, yet she was already more educated than most adults in Taybiya.

How her native city was fairing, she knew not these days. She hadn’t been permitted to leave the castle since she arrived four years ago. “You have everything you need here,” she was told. When her dresses tore, Aunt Mystique mended them. When her toys broke, Uncle Cecil fixed them. When she got hurt, Cousin Veronica saw to her wounds.

Tonight, Lilian was told that everything was about to change. But she didn’t know why until Ivy and Dario barged into her room after midnight, and Dario told her, “Put on your new dress, Lilian. You’re coming to work with us tonight.” He extended his hand, offering some kind of garment.

Lilian was kneeling on the floor with her dolls lined up around her. She’d been telling them a story, but now she’d completely lost her train of thought. She stood up and said, “I am? Really? You mean…outside?”

“Don’t dally,” Dario told her sharply. “We’re already far behind schedule, thanks to our dear Ivy.”

Ivy was quick to defend herself. “My stocking had a tear, Dario, and I will _not_ stride into town looking like a common bar wench! Do forgive me for having standards…”

“Yes, yes,” Dario muttered, waving a dismissive hand as Lilian took the garment from his other.

The couple stepped into the hall while she changed her clothes.

“Do you really think she’s ready? She’s still just a child,” whispered Ivy.

Dario replied quietly, “Such is the point. She can mop up all those tasteless swine who turned their noses up at you. But remember, we don’t need more livestock. Tonight we hunt for gold.”

From his coat pocket he pulled a golden watch. He glanced at it and then put it away. He added, “Mystique is already working the south side. I want you to hit the east side while I take the girl to the western slums.”

Ivy wrinkled her button-nose. “Ugh, truly? You’re taking her _there_? That is the most dangerous, disgusting part of the city.”

“Precisely. That is where she’ll draw the most attention.”

They heard the door creak open behind them. They turned and saw Lilian peeking through the crack. She said, “Um, this dress doesn’t really fit. It’s too small!”

“Let’s see it,” said Dario. Sheepishly, the girl stepped into the hall wearing a form-fitting dress. It was sleeveless and deep red in color, just barely covering her thighs.

Ivy and Dario looked down at her, wearing two very different expressions.

“No, it’s just the right size,” Dario told the girl with a sly smile.

Ivy seized the man’s jaw, forcing him to face her. She spoke through her teeth when she said, “You’d better protect her, Dario…”

Gently pushing her hand away, Dario assured her, “No pig shall lay even a grubby finger upon her, my love. You have my word.”

*

Lilian was never sure what her family’s “work” entailed. They disappeared some nights and came back around sunrise with money or food or sometimes gifts. It was not her place to ask, so she simply wondered and wondered until tonight.

Dario and Ivy mounted their black horses. Dario pulled Lilian into his saddle and the trio rode off towards Taybiya. The trip was short on horseback, peaceful on this spring night. Ivy kissed Dario before they parted ways into different parts of the city. The man hitched his horse on the outskirts and led Lilian down a maze of narrow, dirty streets.

Lilian watched her every step, careful to avoid trash or open creeks of sewage. The wooden buildings around her smelled of rot. Despite the hour, there were plenty of people still milling around these streets, drinking and laughing and fighting.

Lilian shivered in the cold breeze. She pulled her fur coat tighter, but her legs were still greatly exposed. She was relieved when Dario led her into a building where the air was warm, even if it smelled terrible.

Dario tucked his cane under his arm and pulled off his hat as he entered. The interior was crowded with sloppy, drunken people dressed in rags. Lilian clutched Dario’s hand, sticking close as they meandered through the mob of dancing, yelling, vomiting fools.

They approached a lone human near the back of the room, smoking a cigarette as he watched two trolls arm-wrestle eachother nearby. Dario stopped before the man and greeted, “Hello, sir. I couldn’t help but notice you sitting here all by yourself. No man should be alone, don’t you agree? Especially on a cold night like this.”

Smoke gusted from the man’s nostrils. “What do you want from me?” he asked flatly.

Dario stepped behind Lilian, standing straight with her arms folded before her. He pushed the girl forward and answered, “Nothing, sir, except for you to gaze upon my daughter and tell me what you think. Do you think she’s beautiful?”

The man shrugged. “I guess so,” he replied lifelessly.

Dario pushed Lilian’s coat down, exposing her shoulders. “Then perhaps you would enjoy her company tonight?”

“What?” The man quirked an eyebrow. “You asking me to babysit or somethin’? Fuck off, pal, I ain’t no nanny!”

Dario’s mouth opened to explain, then quickly closed. This one was a lost cause, he realized, so he just smiled and told him, “Very well. Have a pleasant night,” before leading Lilian away.

The girl silently followed him to another man, sitting by himself just outside the building. He was an aging satyr with horns spiraling out from the sides of his head. He sat with his goat-legs crossed on the street, drinking from a brown bottle.

“Greetings, sir,” said Dario, placing his hands on Lilian’s shoulders. “What are you doing all alone tonight? Wouldn’t you like a date to keep you company?”

The satyr’s bleary eyes looked up and down between Dario and Lilian. “What are ya, some kinda merryman? I don’t want ya,” he slurred.

“No, sir. But perhaps you’d prefer the company of my lovely daughter?”

Lilian’s wide eyes darted every which way. They were full of fear and confusion, her mouth full of questions she was not allowed to ask. She swallowed them back as the satyr replied, “Huh? Her? How old is she?”

Dario offered a patient smile. “How old does she look?” he asked.

The satyr scratched at his scraggly beard, thinking for a moment or two. Then he knocked back the rest of his drink and threw the bottle away. It shattered in the middle of the street.

“She looks old enough for me,” he snorted, rising to his hooves. He began digging through the satchel on his hip. “How much ya want?”

“How much do you have?” asked Dario.

“Eh…what’ll three silver pieces get me?”

“Whatever you like,” Dario told him, waving his hand. “But put that away for now. You can pay after you’re finished. I already have a room prepared for you.”

The satyr let out a ragged laugh, slapping Dario on the back. “You’re my kinda peddler! C’mon, sweetheart,” he garbled, snatching Lilian by the wrist. He followed Dario back into the tavern. They moved down a long corridor with many doors on either side.

Lilian’s heart hammered in her chest. She looked frantically between the stranger and Dario, all her worries caught in her throat. Dario pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked a door with a “12” carved into its surface. He tipped his head and swept his hand inside.

“Have fun, sir,” he said. “And don’t be frightened, dear girl. Play nice with the man and I’ll come fetch you very shortly.”

With that, he closed the door, sealing Lilian in the tiny room with a stranger. The walls were spotted with rot. There were no windows, no ventilation. There was only a single candleseed bottle on the floor, lighting the space with its green glow. Beside the bottle was a bedroll made of hay and grungy furs.

The satyr stumbled against a wall, struggling to remove his satchel in his drunken haze. Lilian looked at him, then at the door, then back at him. She trembled from head to toe, and no longer from the cold.

What was going to happen to her? She could only wonder. She did not want to play with this smelly, ugly stranger. He wasn’t even allowed to talk to strangers, so why had Dario left her alone with him?

Or perhaps he hadn’t, for she saw a thick, black smoke begin to drift in through the bottom of the door. The satyr tossed his satchel aside and stormed towards her in a fit of sloppy laughter. Lilian shrieked as he shoved her onto the bedroll, looming over her like an ominous cloud.

He reached for her, but then something reached for him. The black smoke rose behind him, materializing into Dario. Dario seized the satyr by his hair and yanked him backwards. With his opposite hand, he raised a long, thin sword and swiftly sliced it across the satyr’s throat.

Lilian shrieked as blood sprayed forth, missing her by inches. It splattered upon the floor and up the walls as the stranger flailed for a few seconds. Dario kicked him to the floor. He hit the boards with a heavy thump, his muscles rattled, and then he fell limp.

He did not get up again.

Lilian backed into the corner, quaking with shrieks and sobs of fright. She quieted immediately when Dario barked, “Lilian, hush!” Then he pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiped the blade of his sword clean. He tossed the handkerchief on the satyr’s body, then slid the sword into the top of his cane where it was hidden inside.

The elfette silenced her screams, but she could not silence her tears or the heavy, panicked breaths wheezing out of her. Dario lifted her into his arms and she hugged him tightly, clinging to him as if for dear life.

“There is no need to be afraid,” he told her. “I said I would be back very shortly. You know I’m always good on my word, don’t you? Stop this fussing, child. The swine is dead.”

“Y-you killed him,” Lilian stammered. “Y-y-you killed him, you k-killed him…!”

“Would you prefer if I hadn’t? Would you prefer if I stood outside and twiddled my thumbs while he hurt you?” Dario queried, delivering a light slap to the back of her head. “Foolish girl.”

“I’m s-s-sorry,” wheezed Lilian. Dario wiped her tears away with his gloved fingers before setting her back on her own feet. Her quivering legs couldn’t hold her. She collapsed onto her knees.

Dario, too, dropped to his knees before the satyr’s body. Lilian watched in horror as he sunk his teeth into the corpse’s neck and began to drink his blood. It was all too much to take. The girl’s eyes rolled back into her head and she fell unconscious, limp on the floor.

Once he had his fill of blood, Dario stood up and began rifling through the satyr’s satchel. He pocketed anything of value, then casted a new guise spell to hide the bloodstains on his coat. Finally, he gathered Lilian into his arms and left the room, closing and locking the door behind him.

The tavern was still bustling. Patrons carried on, oblivious to the heinous murder that occurred just minutes ago. All but the human bartender, who locked eyes with Dario as he approached. Dario fished a few gold coins out of his pocket and slid them across the counter.

“Room twelve needs cleaning,” he said. The bartender swiped the coins and shot him a knowing nod. Dario nearly walked out the door, then stopped in his tracks. He returned to the bar and asked, “Do you have any sweets, by chance? Just a treat for the girl.” He tipped his head towards Lilian, slumped over his shoulder. To passersby, she simply looked like his child, asleep in his arms.

The bartender began digging around under the counter. “Here, I got something special from the Twenty Fingers Tavern across town. Old Mr. Sarfeesha finally croaked last week, did you hear? Rumor has it a succubus killed him, so be sure to lock your windows at night.”

“Ah, that is a shame,” Dario muttered. “He ran that place for decades.”

“Yep. Can’t nobody else in Taybiya make candy like he did! I’m gonna miss that sketchy bastard.” The bartender passed three lollipops to Dario. The tops were wrapped in white paper. He pointed to the candy and warned, “Careful now, enough of these things’ll get the kid drunk.”

Dario smiled and took the candy. “Thank you, my good man. I think the poor thing could use it after tonight.”

*

Lilian opened her eyes to darkness. She blinked the blur away and found herself in some kind of alley, laying against Dario as he sat on a stone ledge. “Mr. Dusk,” she creaked, “I don’t feel good. I want to go home.”

Dario reached into his coat pocket and handed her a lollipop. “Here. A treat will make it all better,” he said.

“A lolly?” Lilian perked up slightly. She took the candy and unwrapped the paper, stuffing it in Dario’s pocket, for she had none of her own. After a taste, she smiled and said, “It’s really good! Thank you!”

Dario wrapped his arm around her, planting a kiss atop her head. “You see? Work isn’t all bad. There is always a reward at the end,” he said. “We’ll go home as soon as Ivy shows up. You made me proud tonight, you know.”

“I did?”

The man nodded. “Yes. You followed all the rules. You did not question me, you did not run away, and you did not fight the stranger. You showed full, unyielding trust in your clan master.”

“I got scared when the man died,” Lilian mumbled, gaze falling to her feet as they dangled off the foundation.

Dario waved his hand dismissively and replied, “Bah, I expected as much. But now you have a taste for our work, and next time you will not scream or cry. You will show courage, won’t you?”

“I’ll try,” answered Lilian. The answer didn’t satisfy Dario.

“No,” he said, leaning closer. His grip tightened on her shoulder, threatening to bruise. “You will not _try_ , Lilian. You will _do_ exactly as I say. Understand?”

The girl quickly nodded, wide eyes meeting his own.

The two of them waited in the dark alley, listening to the noise of the peasants from the street. By the time Lilian finished her lollipop, Ivy appeared before them. She reached into her cleavage and passed a small sack to Dario. Coins jingled inside.

The man weighed it in his palm. He looked back at her with his mouth pressed into a grim line. It seemed he didn’t have to say anything, for she replied to his silence, “I’m aware, Dario, but it was simply not a fruitful night! The Twenty Fingers Tavern is apparently out of business, so I had to walk the streets like a vagabond! I’m so exhausted, I can hardly keep my guise up. I’m soaked with blood from head to toe.”

Dario stuffed the sack in his pocket with a heavy sigh. “Very well. At least _the child_ can provide for us when you fall short,” he muttered, rising to his feet. He briefly seized Ivy’s chin, giving it a jerk. “You’ll be making this up to me later tonight.”

*

_SPRING, 5977_

Blue was not a good color for this particular doll, decided Lilian. So she stripped its dress off and chose another from the trunk in her closet. The trunk was full of tiny dresses and shoes. There was more than enough to clothe all of her dolls twice over, yet Lilian dressed and re-dressed them every night.

They never looked quite right to her. There was always an imperfection to be fixed. A hair out of place, a wrinkle in their clothes, a scuff on their shoes.

Even her fine porcelain dolls could not compare to the flawless beauty of the Dusks. Lilian tried to recreate that beauty to no avail. Ivy assured her that she would be as beautiful as they were someday, but without a single mirror in the castle, how would she know when that day arrived? She had seen thirteen years now and only felt more awkward with each one that passed.

She was in her chamber tonight, playing with her dolls yet again when a sharp pain doubled her over. Lilian dropped her doll and pressed her forehead to the floor. She clutched her abdomen until the pain subsided. But it did not fully subside. It left a dull ache below her naval that spread up into her stomach, her back, and down into her legs.

She’d eaten something rotten again, Lilian thought. No matter. She decided she would rest off the illness like last time. She changed into her nightgown, crawled into bed, and eventually drifted to sleep.

Lilian opened her eyes some time later. To her dismay, she only felt worse than before. She trudged towards the window and peeked through the curtain. The moon peeked back through the canopy of the forest, telling her it was just before midnight. Lunch would start soon, though just the thought of food sickened her.

She left her room and slowly made her way down the long corridor to the washroom. She stepped inside, but less than a minute later, burst back into the hall with a shriek. She ran straight for Ivy and Dario’s chamber door and slapped her palms rapidly against it, calling, “Mr. and Mrs. Dusk! I need help! Please, please, I need help!”

They didn’t answer. She pressed her ear to the door and heard no one inside. She tried the door to Dario’s study next, but it was also empty. The stairs creaked in protest as she hurried to the first floor with tears on her face.

“Mr. and Mrs. Dusk!” she called. She did not see them, but she did see Dimitri in the sitting room, lounging on the couch with a book in his hands.

He pushed up his glasses and queried, “What’s your problem? One of your teddies lost its stuffing?”

“Cousin Dimitri,” Lilian began through her sobs, “I need help right away! I’m dying, I’m _dying_ , please…!”

The man raised an eyebrow. “Of course you are, you fool. You’re a mortal.”

Lilian shook her head and explained frantically, “No! I mean I’m—I felt sick earlier, so I went to bed. But now I feel even worse and I’m bleeding a lot!”

With a sigh, Dimitri closed his book and sat up. “Alright, I definitely smell blood. Where is it?”

“It’s…well, it’s…” Lilian floundered. “It’s on my underwear. I need to show Mr. and Mrs. Dusk right away!”

Dimitri’s brows shot up, causing his glasses to slip down his nose again. “Oh!” He suddenly coughed, clearing his throat. “Er, they just went out to the market…”

Lilian clasped her hands together, staring at him with pleading eyes. “Can _you_ help me, Dimitri?” she asked.

“No, no, no,” he told her quickly, waving his hands. He stood up and beckoned her to follow him through a doorway to another hall. “But your Aunt Vivi definitely can! Come on, I think she’s in the garden.”

Dimitri took Lilian out to the moonlit garden, making a swift exit as she explained her plight to Vivianne. But Vivianne didn’t show any sense of alarm or urgency. She took Lilian back to the washroom, helped her clean up, and showed her how to fold a rag in her underwear.

“It means you could be a mother now, if you wanted to be,” Vivianne explained. “This is just another burden of being an elfenne in this world. It happens to all of us.”

“Everyone? Even you?” sniffled Lilian, sitting on the edge of the clawfoot tub.

“Well, not anymore,” replied Vivianne. “But it did, back when I was mortal. Vampires cannot bear children, you see.”

“But Dimitri…” Lilian began, then trailed off when she remembered the third rule of the castle. She’d almost forgotten in all her fright.

Vivianne explained anyway, “Dimitri is my night-child, not my blood-child. He was born not from my womb, but from my fangs. I’ve outlived my mortal children three lifetimes over.” She shook her head. “Gods rest their precious souls...”

Lilian twitched, nearly falling into the tub with shock. Suddenly things were making a lot more sense. She always wondered why Dimitri looked nothing like his mother, why he claimed to be fatherless, why his accent was so different from Vivianne’s.

They shared no blood between them. Then she wondered how many of the Dusks actually did share blood and what their true relations were to eachother.

Her mind was racing. Though she had many more questions, Lilian was already pushing the rules and she didn’t wish to break them. She accepted the vague explanation and Vivianne sent her off back to her chamber. At the very least, Lilian had an exciting story to share with her dolls.

*

_SUMMER, 5980_

Though Lilian often left the castle these days, it was only for work and nothing more. She did not go to school, she did not make friends, and she did not learn of “worldly” things happening outside the castle. They were not for her to know, she was told.

She was sixteen years old now, which made her a legal adult in every kingdom that surrounded Southriver Wood. But Lilian hardly felt like an adult. She still played with her toys and talked to her dolls, for they were the only friends she had.

The Dusks called her one of their own, yet she was not allowed to ask them questions and they only seemed to want her around when there were chores to do.

Her dolls never bossed her around. They never expected a thing from her. She could say whatever she wanted to them and they never judged her for it. Lilian chose what they wore and what they did. She gave them each a unique personality from her own imagination. She was the master of her little doll-world, which grew grander each time she and Dario had a successful hunt.

When they killed a man with fat pockets, Dario bought Lilian a gift to reward her. He took her to the market, where she could pick any little thing she wanted. With each gift she reaped, she became less frightened and more eager to hunt. The blood they spilled once made her cry. But now it excited her, for she would think of pretty new dolls as Dario drained and looted corpses.

Lilian was tending her dolls as usual when Dario opened her door. “Put this on, Lilian. The hunt begins in an hour,” he said, tossing a garment on her bed. The door closed and he disappeared behind it, waiting in the hallway as she changed.

This violet dress was a size too small like all of her other hunting dresses, sleeveless with a section of lace over her cleavage. Her dresses typically got torn or stained with blood during each outing, prompting Dario and Ivy to buy more.

Lilian slipped on the dress and stepped out into the hall. “You look lovely, my dear,” Dario told her, pressing his hand to her lower back as he guided her down the stairs. He was much friendlier with her now than he used to be, Lilian noticed.

As a child, she was treated like a nuisance. But with each passing year, it seemed he’d grown to accept her—even _like_ her.

They met Ivy and Mystique near the front door, both wearing similar undersized dresses. Mystique was Ivy’s sister, so Lilian was told. Though like most relatives in the castle, they looked nothing alike.

They were both gorgeous of course, but Mystique’s green hair contrasted with Ivy’s blonde, chopped into a sleek bob cut. Her light brown complexion was tinged with gold undertones, like autumn leaves just beginning to turn.

“Auntie Mystique, you got new boots!” said Lilian, pointing to the black, leather boots that extended up the woman’s thighs.

“Yes, your uncle Cecil is a generous man on occasion,” Mystique replied, stretching her leg forward. “Though I think these were a treat more for himself than for me.” She winked, then the troop of vampires shared a laugh as they left the castle.

They rode their black horses to Taybiya under the cover of night. Ivy and Mystique split off into different sides of town while Dario took Lilian to the western slums as usual. Dario once explained to her that western Taybiya had the cheapest inns and drinks. It was where the lowliest vagrants, criminals, and travelers ended up, like sewage pooling at the bottom of a hill.

“They are pigs,” he told her. “But we are butchers.”

He said that Taybiyans were fast-breeding and that each generation was dumber than the last. For every man the Dusks killed, he surely had several brothers on the way to take his place. “This is why we do not prey on women. They are the mothers of this great brood of vermin,” Dario explained.

So just like always, they searched the slums for a sad, lonely man. Heavyweights like roshava, trolls, and ogres were off the menu, for they put up too much of a fight. Humans, elves, and satyrs were the most reliable prey. They were fooled easily and they died easily.

Lilian pointed out an elven man sitting alone in the tavern. His hair was long and unkempt, his bloodshot eyes blinking out of tandem. Four empty brown bottles sat on the table before him.

He was wearing leather plates with a sword sheathed on his hip, but he flew no colors associated with a kingdom. Probably a sellsword, figured Dario. Taybiya was full of them, and they were just as crooked as the crooks they hunted.

Lilian stepped up to the man and flashed a practiced smile. Dario stood behind her, hands on her shoulders as he greeted, “Hello, sir. I can tell by all those empty bottles, you’ve got a lot on your mind.”

“You got that right…” the man grumbled, sipping from the bottle in his hand.

Dario went on, “But is alcohol really helping? Perhaps it’s companionship you need in these difficult times. Someone to hold, to keep you company and satisfy your every desire…”

The man’s tired gaze swept over to Dario, then down at Lilian. “What? You a flesh-monger or something?” he slurred.

“If that’s what you’re in the market for,” Dario told him. He traced his gloved finger along Lilian’s jaw as he continued, “Look at this beautiful young elfenne. Wouldn’t you love to call her yours, if only for a night?”

A puff of air left the stranger’s nostrils, something like a bitter chuckle. He gestured to his ragged armor and said, “Yeah, right! Do I look like I could afford a classy wench like that? You’re wasting your time, buddy.”

“Oh, but I ask no coin, sir,” Dario replied quickly. “Simply tell your friends about my services when you’re through and we’ll call it even. What do you say?”

“Heh, really? That’s all?” The sellsword’s lips stretched into a lopsided grin.

“A little advertising goes a long way,” said Dario. He pointed his cane towards the corridor full of doors. “I already have a room established here. Take her inside, do what you wish until sunrise, and each one of your referrals will get a small discount. Do we have a deal?”

The sellsword nearly tripped over his own booted feet as he stood up. He shook Dario’s hand and replied, “Deal! Ha, and my wife said nothing good ever happens in this place…”

Dario walked him to room #12 down the hall. He closed the door behind the man and Lilian when they stepped inside. The room looked the same as it always did, sparse and depressing, except a rickety chair had been added in at some point.

“Can I dance for you, mister?” Lilian asked him, batting her long lashes.

With a sloppy smile, the man replied, “Sure you can, peaches! We got all night, don’t we?”

Lilian turned the chair away from the door, and there the man sat as she swayed her hips before him. He was so transfixed, he never noticed the black smoke pouring through the bottom of the door. They never did.

Seconds later, Dario was slashing his blade through the sellsword’s throat. His body slumped to the side and hit the floor in a twitching, bleeding heap. Dario had the technique down to a science these days, able to kill his victims without splashing a drop of blood onto his suit. At least most of the time.

The process was very methodical as he cleaned his blade, slid it back into his cane, and sucked the corpse’s wound. Lilian, meanwhile, fished through every pocket in its armor. She rejoiced when she found a heavy sack of gold and passed it to Dario.

Dario wiped the blood from his chin with his handkerchief, then said, “The fellow must have just returned from a contract. Perfect timing on our part, hm? Nicely done. You’re getting smarter about choosing your prey.”

Lilian smiled, standing tall with pride. Dario stuffed their loot into his many hidden pockets. He even stole the victim’s sword and tucked it away inside his long, black coat. They left the room and as Dario locked the door, Lilian skipped merrily down the hall to the bar.

The familiar bartender greeted her with a smile and a lollipop as usual. Dario soon arrived, passed a handful of coins across the counter and said, “Room twelve needs cleaning.”

He and Lilian disappeared into the dark, narrow alley beside the tavern. There they sat side-by-side on the ledge, waiting for Ivy and Mystique to return. Lilian eagerly unwrapped her lollipop and noted that it was red this time. She popped it into her mouth, sucking on it for a long moment to determine the flavor.

“It’s cherry,” she said. She held it up and offered, “Do you want a taste, Mr. Dusk?”

Years ago, she might have been slapped for suggesting such a foolish thing. But Dario had grown soft with her in many ways, and to her offer he replied, “You know worldly food makes me ill, dear girl.”

“But it’s only a taste,” she insisted. “Just a lick?”

The candy hovered there before him, shiny and red. So too were Lilian’s lips beyond it, all painted with gloss. Dario looked this way and that, then pushed her hand away and pressed his mouth to hers.

Lilian’s eyes rounded. She froze there as she felt his cold tongue sweep through her mouth. Just as suddenly as he pushed in, he pulled away again.

Lilian wiped her mouth, smearing red gloss across her hand. “You were supposed to lick the lolly!” she said.

Resting an arm on her shoulder, Dario smiled and told her, “Ah, but it’s hardly as sweet as you are.”

The color of Lilian’s cheeks suddenly matched her candy. She shoved it into her mouth again, sitting silently with her hands tightly clasped together between her knees.

Dario gave her shoulder a squeeze and added, “Do not tell Ivy I was indulging in sweets, and in return, I will not tell her that you tempted me. This will be our little secret.”

*

More was expected of Lilian these days. There were endless chores to be done around the castle, but by far the most revolting chore was tending the dungeon.

After all these years, Lilian finally learned what the “dungeon keeper” did. She wished she hadn’t, for now she was expected to shadow Dimitri as he performed his vile duties. He took her through a door in the sitting room which had always been forbidden to her in the past. Beyond it was a stone staircase that led into an underground dungeon.

Lilian heard the moans of prisoners before they even hit the last step. Once they reached the bottom, she gasped at the horrid sight of tiny cells lined up along either wall. Within each was a person—mostly humans, elves, and satyrs—trapped behind metal bars like animals. They were stripped naked or down to their undergarments, with nothing else in their possession but a single bucket for waste.

Dimitri carried a heavy sack over his shoulder. “Lunch time, mongrels!” he cackled, reaching into the sack. He began rolling oranges into each cell through the bottom gap. Prisoners reached for the fruit desperately. Most of them looked malnourished, some critically so.

Dimitri reached into the sack again and pulled out a smaller bag full of hardtack biscuits. Lilian cautiously followed as he moved down the corridor, shoving a biscuit into each prisoner’s grasping hands. Only then did Lilian notice the gnarled scars on their wrists, as if they’d been slashed open, allowed to heal, and slashed again repeatedly.

“Try to keep your wits about you,” warned Dimitri. “Once in a blue moon, one of them will get an attitude and toss their bucket.”

Lilian folded her hands close to her chest, quivering ever so slightly. Some prisoners were groaning and howling like beasts while others cowered silently. She saw one in a cell near the end of the hall, just a frame of human skin and bones lying on the floor.

She tapped Dimitri’s arm and told him, “That one isn’t moving at all. I think he might be dead.”

“Huh?” Dimitri turned, adjusting his glasses. Then he sighed, “Oh, yes, the tattooed fellow. He’s been sick for weeks. Lasted a lot longer than I expected, really. Help me get him into the incinerator room, will you?”

Dimitri unlocked the cell door and stepped inside. He grabbed the dead man by the ankles while Lilian took his skinny wrists. His head fell limply on his neck, wide, lifeless eyes staring right at her. A faded tattoo of a snake wrapped around one side of his face.

They carried him through a doorway at the very end of the corridor. It was a small room surrounded by stone walls and a metal door with a vent in the ceiling. Dimitri pilled a match from his pocket and struck it against the wall. He ignited the man’s stringy hair before quickly leaving the room, closing the creaky door behind him.

“We’ll come sweep up the ashes tomorrow. Might find a gold tooth or two! It’s always a surprise!” he laughed. A wooden shelf stood nearby, stocked with hundreds of empty wine bottles. Dimitri picked up a bottle and unsheathed a dagger from somewhere on his person. “Now it’s time to drain them. They’re usually too weak to put up a fight. But if they do, don’t be afraid to kick them where it hurts. That stops their fussing quick.”

He swept the knife towards the cells to his right. “These three should be replenished and ready to drain again. Grab that metal pail for me, dear cousin, just in case we have some overflow. I hate to be wasteful.”

With a nod, Lilian swiped the pail sitting near the shelf and followed Dimitri into another cell. The human inside cowered away from them, muttering incoherently. A twisted smile spread over Dimitri’s face as he pinned the prisoner down with his booted foot and slashed his wrist, collecting his blood in the bottle.

Everyone hated tending the “cattle”. Everyone except for Dimitri, who seemed to revel in it. Lilian wished she could find that kind of enthusiasm, yet was relieved that she couldn’t.

As they finished up and left the dungeon, Dimitri said, “Be sure to tell Uncle Dario about that empty cell. He’ll decide what to do from there.”

They parted ways and Lilian did as she was told, heading upstairs to search for the clan master. She checked his usual haunts—his chamber, his study, the library—but he was nowhere to be found. Then she heard the meandering, melancholy sound of a violin outside the window.

Lilian opened the door to the stone balcony overlooking the courtyard. There, under the moonlight, Ivy bowed the strings of her violin as Dario sat on the wall with a goblet in his hand, listening closely. He hummed quietly and twirled his free fingers to the melody.

Though she felt guilty for interrupting, Lilian cleared her throat and did as Dimitri ordered. “Mr. Dusk?” she peeped. Dario’s eyes snapped open. They flashed red for just a second, then turned brown after he blinked. Ivy stopped playing and turned to face her.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you. It’s about the cattle. Um, one of them died,” Lilian reported.

Dario raised an eyebrow. “What? How did it die?”

“It was sick for a long time. That’s what Dimitri said.”

A sigh gusted through Dario’s nostrils. He swirled his goblet for a moment before taking a sip. Afterwards, he said, “Well, I suppose we’ll have to go cattle-wrangling then, won’t we?”

“Ugh, what a pain,” groaned Ivy.

Dario turned to his wife and said, “You and I shall head out tomorrow. Wear your finest dress.”

Ivy tipped her head towards Lilian. “What about the girl?”

“She stays here. The risk is too great,” Dario told her, shaking his head. “Hunting is crude work, but luring is a fine art. I can settle for nothing less than your expertise, my love.”

The night came and went, and then tomorrow night arrived. Dario and Ivy prepared to leave early at dusk, kissing Lilian on the head before they walked out of the castle. She played with her dolls and performed her daily chores through the night. There was always plenty of laundry to do, bones to bury, bloodstains to scrub…

Lilian was sweeping the upstairs balcony when she heard twelve loud, slow knocks on the front door. All the Dusks suddenly dropped what they were doing and hid themselves in the shadows. So too did Lilian, crouching down and peering through the railing to the sitting room below.

The front door opened with a creak. Dario and Ivy passed through, trailed by a stumbling, red-headed satyr with several missing fingers. The satyr mumbled incoherently, and Lilian could smell the stench of alcohol wafting from him even from the second floor.

Ivy shoved the stranger onto the couch and crawled into his lap. She guided his hands over the back of his seat, acted like she was going to kiss him until Dario quickly approached from behind and cuffed the stranger’s wrists with metal shackles.

Lilian shrunk back, wincing at the sloppy screams that swelled from below. Suddenly several other Dusks bolted out from the shadows and mobbed the stranger. He struggled and pulled and swung his horned head around. But he was terribly drunk and terribly outnumbered, and it wasn’t long before he was dragged away into the dungeon.

His screams faded all the way down the stone steps. Then the door closed, silencing him completely.

*

Sunrise would come within the hour. It was time for all the Dusks to lie down for bed. Even Lilian, though daylight did not pain her the way it pained them. She changed into her simple white gown, untwisted her hair from their cones, and scrubbed off her makeup.

Long ago in her other life, she remembered the songs of crickets and frogs lulling her to sleep. Now it was the lullabies of birds that soothed her, singing just outside her covered window each morning. She blew out the candle on the side table before settling into bed.

Lilian closed her eyes and began drifting off to sleep. She was oblivious to the black smoke seeping in silently from under her door. It shaped itself into a humanoid shadow and then solidified into Dario. He loomed over her bedside, watching her for a long moment.

Lilian woke to a pressure on the mattress beside her. In her sleepy haze, she assumed it was one of the cats and reached over to stroke its fur. Her eyes snapped open when she felt cold skin, bony fingers, sharp nails…

She rolled over and saw a figure arched over her. She tried to scream, barely getting a squeak out before its hand covered her mouth.

“Hush. It’s only me,” said a familiar voice, and in that moment she realized the figure was Dario. Slowly his hand slid away from her mouth, caressing her cheek as he planted kisses across her forehead.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Dusk. You frightened me,” Lilian creaked. She squinted in the darkness, elven eyes adjusting to make out his form. Forbidden questions danced on her tongue. He often came in before sunrise to give her a goodnight kiss. But he had already done that an hour earlier, so why was he pestering her again so late in the daylight hours?

Dario’s kisses strayed down the side of her face, then to her lips. Lilian stared into the darkness above. She was frozen in place, silenced by confusion. Her thoughts raced like hares across hot coals, trying to make sense out of any of this, trying to convince herself that it was all a dream.

She felt Dario’s cold tongue slip into her mouth, and this time she was certain it was deliberate. His palms, too, were cold upon her face. He tossed a leg over her hip and straddled her, pressing their bodies together, and she could feel no heartbeat in his chest.

It was only a dream, thought Lilian, as his lips strayed to her neck. She closed her eyes and tried to change the course of her dream. With enough willpower, perhaps she could make him leave.

The Dusks didn’t often breathe. They only did so when they needed to speak or express a dramatic sigh. Yet Lilian could hear Dario breathing—quite deeply—against the flesh of her throat. She winced as his grasping fingers clasped tighter against her face, thumbnails threatening to pierce into her cheeks. One hand slid down and grasped her neck, the other pushing her face away from him.

A pale section of her throat was wide open to him now, and he stared at it with hungry, wolfish eyes. Lilian dared to open her own. She nearly shrieked again when she saw the glowing, red eyes leering down at her and the hideous ghoul attached to them.

“Mr. Dusk,” she squeaked. Her entire body trembled beneath him. “Y-your guise…”

Dario’s wolfish expression suddenly dropped, black brows arching. He blinked his eyes rapidly until they turned brown, and then his skin quickly flooded with color once more. His revolting black veins disappeared with his corpse-like hue.

He and Lilian locked eyes for a moment. Then his lips twisted into a scowl. She cried out when he delivered a harsh slap to her face. “Temptress! Filthy temptress!” he growled, scrambling off the bed.

Lilian pulled her blanket up to her nose. She cowered behind it as Dario pulled his black robe tighter and hissed, “Shame on you, Lilian! Seducing your clan master? Truly? You know Ivy will be furious with you when she hears about this!”

Tears sparkled in Lilian’s eyes. “I…” she began, voice quivering. “I didn’t mean to! I’m so sorry, Mr. Dusk!”

She shrunk back as he approached the bedside once more. But this time he only caressed her face and said, “You’re lucky I’m a man of good character, or else your little game could have torn this clan apart! I am not cruel, and I do love you very much. So, between my great love and mercy, I’ve decided I shall not tell Ivy about your wrongdoing. I trust you will not tell her either?”

Lilian shook her head. “I won’t tell! I promise!” she said. She saw his white grin in the darkness.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised.

With that, he collapsed into a plume of black smoke and faded away into the shadows.

*


	3. Violator

**[CHAPTER 3: VIOLATOR]**

_SUMMER, 5982_

The Dusks separated themselves from the rest of the world, for they considered every mortal a potential enemy. But they faced no greater enemy than the sun, beating down on their castle from the clear, blue sky.

Its rays could not penetrate their windows, darkened with amber glass and blocked by layers of heavy curtains. It could not hurt the Dusks so long as they stayed within the protective stone walls of their castle, and they did so until the sun grew tired and sank down over the horizon. Summer days were long, making the clan’s days short.

On this hot summer day, Lilian felt confident when she crept through the door to the balcony. She was confident that the other Dusks were all fast asleep, shut away in their dark chambers for the next several hours. There was no way they could catch her as she stripped off all but her undergarments and sprawled out on the warm stone balcony.

Her skin had become ghostly-white since the Dusks took her into their care. She sometimes felt weak and unwell, but just a bit of sun always replenished her. She reveled in its forbidden warmth when she could, though she had to be very careful, for she was breaking the first rule of the clan: _never go outside during the day_.

Lilian wanted to follow the rules. But her body was traitorous, craving sunlight like a drug. Her addiction to light kept her crawling back to her greatest enemy’s warm embrace. She only meant to lay outside for a few minutes—half an hour at the very most. But the pleasant warmth lulled her to sleep, and when she awoke, the sun had already tipped into a new position in the sky.

A full hour had passed. Lilian scrambled upright, pulled her gown on and rushed back to her room. Still, no one was awake to catch her. She’d gotten away with it yet again.

Or so she thought.

She awoke again after sunset with the rest of the clan. Groggily she shuffled down the hall to the washroom, but the door was locked. She leaned against the wall and waited. Eventually, Mystique stepped out, all dressed and beautified in her guise. Her green bob was damp as if recently washed.

Lilian mumbled a greeting as she stepped through the doorway. She yelped as Mystique seized her wrist and jerked her back. “What happened here?” the vampire queried, staring hard into Lilian’s face. Lilian stared back at her in confusion.

Mystique brushed her palm against Lilian’s cheek as if to wipe dirt away. Lilian winced and drew back in pain. The realization hit them both at the same time, Lilian’s eyes rounding with horror as Mystique’s rounded with shock.

“A sunburn?” Mystique exclaimed, long nails digging into Lilian’s wrist.

“I’m sorry!” the young elfenne whined, eyes already sparkling with moisture.

“Lilian, you know better! What if someone saw you out there? Some filthy Taybiyan woodsman? You could have been kidnapped, raped, murdered…”

“I’m know—”

“…and we wouldn’t be there to save you!”

“I know! I’m so sorry, Auntie Mystique!” Lilian blubbered, dragging her palms over her wet eyes.

Mystique told her, “You better not do this again!” and Lilian opened her mouth to reply, to tell her she wouldn’t, but only silence came out. No fae could tell a lie. Her silence spoke the truth.

Hazel eyes narrowing, Mystique muttered, “I see. Then I suppose you’ll need some discouragement, won’t you?”

She dragged Lilian down the hall, making a beeline for Dario’s study. She threw the door open to a dark room with a wooden desk in the center. Stuffed bookshelves and curios cabinets lined the walls. Mystique opened one of the cabinets and grabbed a pinch of red pyre dust from a jar.

“Since you enjoy burning so much,” she began rubbing her dusty palms together, “you will stand here and burn until your tears flush it away, and then I dare you to crave it again!” With that, she grabbed Lilian’s face and smeared her thumbs across her eyes.

Lilian drew back with a screech. The pyre dust was made from crystals that grew from the bones of fire nymphs. It burned the sensitive flesh of her eyes like flames, and all she could do was thrash and shriek as Mystique held her in place.

“You have no right to be upset! You’ve done this to yourself!” Mystique told her, pinning her against the wall.

Lilian pleaded through her sobs, “Auntie, it burns! Water, please! Give me water!”

“I’ll give you nothing! When you get yourself into trouble, you’re expected to get yourself out!” said the vampire. “So keep crying your tears, girl, and wash away the pain on your own.”

The door was left ajar. Just a short moment later, Dario opened it fully and stared at the scene before him. Lilian was screaming, crying, wriggling in Mystique’s grip. Tears rained down her red face like waterfalls.

“What’s all this commotion?” exclaimed Dario, stepping forth in his gleaming shoes.

Mystique turned to him and explained sharply, “Lilian went outside in the sun! Look at her face, it’s pink as a cherry blossom! So I told her if she likes burning so much, she can revel in the burn of pyre dust for a while.”

Dario’s expression hardened with anger. He stormed towards the two and separated them, seizing Mystique by the throat. Mystique let out a strangled gasp of shock, eyes blown wide after he delivered a hard slap across her face. Then he tossed her to the floor and bellowed, “It is _not_ your place to discipline _my_ protégé! What makes you think you have authority over me, Lady Mystique?”

Pushing herself back to her feet, Mystique stammered, “I-I-I was only trying to help, Master Dario! I didn’t mean—”

“Spare me your sniveling!” roared Dario, pointing towards the open doorway. “Go tend the dungeon! I’ll deal with you later.”

The elfenne tipped her head in a steep bow before rushing out the door. Dario approached Lilian, whimpering as she tried desperately to wipe the red dust from her eyes. “There, there. A little water will set things right,” he said, leading her back down the hall to the washroom. He closed the door behind them and stopped Lilian in front of the wash basin.

The basin was but a steep, heavy bowl sitting on the marble counter. The water inside was still and clear. Dario bent Lilian over the basin and began scooping water against her face.

“You knew it was wrong to go outside, Lilian,” he said. His tone was low and austere.

She apologized between splashes, “I’m sorry! I’m very sorry!”

Dario pulled Lilian upright again, swiping the water off her face with his hand. He examined her bloodshot, twitching eyes and shook his head in dismay. “That whorish buffoon! She’s left your eyes swollen and ugly! You won’t be baiting pigs for days…I have half a mind to lock her in that dungeon until you’re well again.”

“Don’t, please!” sniffled Lilian. “She doesn’t deserve that! Please don’t be angry with Auntie Mystique! I caused all this trouble, not her!”

Dario fell silent for a long, tense moment. Lilian couldn’t read his expression through her blurry vision.

Finally, he rumbled, “Yes, you did. You should be punished—she was right about that—but she does not have the authority to do so.”

He gestured to the clawfoot tub, still wet from recent use. “Bend over,” he said, and Lilian obeyed, clutching its porcelain edge. He tugged her gown up and her underwear down, exposing her backside for five hard swats with his palm. Lilian gnashed her teeth and tried not to complain. She had no right, she thought.

After the fifth swat, Dario asked, “Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes!” blurted Lilian.

She jumped as he swatted her once more and asked, “Do you promise not to break the rules again?”

“I promise!”

“Very well,” said Dario, righting her disturbed garments. She barely straightened her spine when he seized her chin, pulling her face close to his. “No more foolishness from now on,” he rumbled.

The young elfenne nodded in the confines of his grip. Locks of her loose hair had become damp, hanging in her face. Dario gently brushed them back and planted a kiss on her forehead.

Finally he released her, pushing her towards the door. “Run along,” he told her. Lilian nodded, nearly tripping over her own feet as she hurried away.

*

Weeks passed on and Lilian stayed true to her word. She was bound by her fae promise, for to break it would make her words untrue. She stayed in the castle, leaving only under the cover of night. Day after day, she never stopped longing for the sweet kiss of the sun.

The gold in the Dusks’ coffers was dwindling again, so Dario planned a hunt tonight under the full moon. Sunlight was their enemy, but moonlight was their savior, replenishing all the power that the sun drained from them.

Dario, Ivy, and Lilian rode into Taybiya, their veins coursing with power. Ivy took her usual route while Dario led Lilian into the slums. Perhaps it was the moon’s mysterious power, or maybe just its extra light that brought more cattle out to pasture.

The slums were crowded with more people than usual. Dario and Lilian stuck close as they weaved between them, scrunching their faces in disgust every time a Taybiyan brushed against them.

The tavern was packed with men, yet so many of them were sitting alone. Lilian scanned the room. There were a lot of lonely, pathetic slobs to choose from, but how many of them had pockets worth reaching into?

She pointed out a middle-aged human. He had a round belly, so he must have had money to eat well. Dario made his pitch and Lilian lured the stranger into room 12. Like clockwork, she danced to distract him, Dario slashed his throat, and his pockets were looted of their pittance.

Lilian frowned with disappointment. She wouldn’t be getting a gift at the market tonight. Dario still got a full meal out of the kill, so even a poor choice on her part was never a complete waste.

It always took a day for the barkeepers to deal with the mess. Until then, Dario and Lilian were forced to end their hunt and wait for Ivy in the alley. Lilian snatched her lollipop from the bartender beforehand. Dario paid a percentage of their loot for the cleanup.

It wasn’t the pay that incentivized tavernkeepers to allow these murders under their roofs, but rather, the threat of disgruntled vampires slaying them in their sleep. The payment was just a display of dignity on the Dusks’ part. They were to always appear sophisticated, wealthy, and important when in public. Their clan master demanded it, and any low-class behavior was duly punished.

Dario and Lilian waited in their usual spot in the alley. Here they were shrouded in darkness, hidden from the public eye. The alley was uncovered and too narrow to be comfortable, which discouraged sleeping vagrants and bootleg merchants from setting up shop.

Lilian unwrapped her lollipop. It was green, and her face scrunched at the taste. “Yuck, sour apple!” she remarked. She turned to Dario and asked, “Can I go get another one, please?”

Dario remained silent for a long moment. His eyes glinted in the faint light from outside the alley when he looked at her. The rest of him was but a bold shadow, white teeth flashing as he spoke, “No. You’re growing too old for childish things like this.” He plucked the candy from her hand and tossed it to the ground. “You don’t need lollies anymore.”

“But I love lollies,” Lilian told him, pointing to the candy on the ground. “I just don’t like _that_ one.”

Dario stood up and stretched his back. “You will pester that bartender for nothing more. After our next hunt, you will come straight to this alley, understood?”

A frown burdened the elfenne’s face. “Okay…” she mumbled.

Dario peeked at his pocket watch. Their hunt had ended so swiftly, Ivy wasn’t due to arrive for a couple hours. He looked back at Lilian in her silk dress, swinging her feet over the ledge. The moon was glowing above, pulling at his veins.

He couldn’t calm the anxious energy within himself. Dario reached forward to caress Lilian’s jaw, tilting her head up to face him. “Don’t look so sullen,” he said. “You know I am not cruel, my dear. I have another lolly for you. A much better one.”

Lilian’s face brightened. Even her elven eyes struggled in such darkness, but she thought she saw him reaching into his pocket, fumbling with his trousers as he said, “But this is no childish sweet. This is the _special_ lolly you’ll earn from now on…”

The elfenne squinted in the darkness, trying to make out what he was doing. But just a second later, she shrieked and shielded her head when a screeching bat came careening through the alley. It fluttered this way and that, hitting the wall before collapsing into the mud.

Upon impact, the bat exploded into a burst of smoke. Dario and Lilian coughed, waving the haze away. It quickly cleared and left a humanoid figure behind, lying in the alley. Her skin was such a ghastly-white that it was visible in the dark, and among the spidery black veins were deep gashes, oozing black blood.

“Mrs. Dusk!”

“My love!” Lilian and Dario gasped at once, rushing to Ivy’s side. She opened her eyes, irises glowing bright red like rings of flame. She was completely nude, though that was the price vampires paid whenever they transformed into bats.

Dario pulled his wife to her bare, muddy feet. “What happened to you? Are you alright?” he asked, shrugging off his long coat.

He wrapped it around her shoulders as she replied hoarsely, “Yes, I-I’ll survive, but those…those damned hoodlums! Filthy pigs, I hate them so!”

“You were attacked,” deduced Dario.

Ivy slipped his coat on properly, doing up the buttons while she explained, “I was luring some slob into a room when his two boorish friends ambushed me in the hall. Thought they were getting free meat, I suppose, but I stabbed two of them and got away.” She shook her head, wearing a bitter scowl. “One of them is surely dead, but the other two are still out there. We should make ourselves scarce. Now.”

“Agreed,” said Dario, pulling the hood of his coat over her head. He and Lilian shielded her as much as possible while they made their way to Dario’s horse waiting on the outskirts. He went on, “Give Mystique a description and I’ll send her to dispose of those two tomorrow. What nerve they have, preying upon lone women!”

“They might talk by then,” mentioned Ivy. “Just forget it. Perhaps it would be best if we all lay low while the ripples calm.”

Dario grumbled, displeased. Ivy added, “We still have a full dungeon of cattle to sustain us.”

“But what will sustain _them_ if we have no gold to buy feed?” asked Dario.

Ivy replied, “We can ration their gruel and even cull them if necessary. But let’s not allow emotion to cloud our judgment. We must decide if a little gold is worth risking the safety of our clan. These are only my thoughts, of course. The decision is up to you.”

A thoughtful silence passed between them. At last, Dario decided, “One month. We shall let Taybiya rest for one month, let the vermin get comfortable, and then strike them thrice as hard while their guard is down.”

A smile tugged at Ivy’s pallid, wrinkled lips. “Such a brilliant mind you have, my love.”

*

No one in the Dusk family was permitted to leave the castle until further notice. They filled their extra time with menial chores, and once again, Lilian was stuck tending the dungeon with Dimitri.

She carried a sack of hardtack biscuits, passing them out one by one to the hungry prisoners. The biscuits were devoured in seconds, then Dimitri pulled a hose of metal coils from the wall. It was attached to a spigot, and when he turned the valve, water began to spray out. The water was cold and yellowed, sourced from a nearby river. The prisoners shrank away from the cold, harsh stream as Dimitri hosed them down.

A small drain was drilled into the bottom of each cell. Excess water swirled away, and the prisoners were left damp and quivering. “Dump your buckets, mongrels!” Dimitri ordered. The prisoners obeyed, pouring their waste buckets down the drain. Dimitri hosed down their cells from the tops of the walls to the floors.

One prisoner refused to obey. He was a young satyr with red hair and several missing fingers. What fingers he had left clutched the bars of his cell as he shouted, “That’s all you’re feedin’ me? A shitty biscuit, nothin’ else?”

Dimitri glared at the satyr while he hosed down an adjacent cell. “Rations will be thin until further notice. Shut up and empty your piss-bucket like I told you,” he snapped.

The satyr stamped his hoof and shouted back, “I’m starvin’ to death, you bastard! What’s the point in keepin’ me here just to die? Kill me or feed me! But quit fuckin’ with me, you hear?”

“Shut your mouth or you’ll get nothing at all for dinner,” barked Dimitri. Lilian backed towards the shelf of empty bottles, trembling with anxiety. The other prisoners were starting to shout grievances of their own.

Dimitri turned all around, ordered, “Shut up! Stop your noise right now, all of you, or else—” He turned his back on the satyr for just a second, but a second was all the satyr needed to pick up his waste bucket and toss its contents through the bars.

Lilian threw her hands over her mouth, gasping in disgust as Dimitri was hit with a splash of foul, watery sludge.

The dungeon swelled with wild laughter. Prisoners shook the bars of their cells, rattling them noisily. The jubilation didn’t last long, for Dimitri quickly threw his soiled coat to the floor, then unsheathed the long dagger on his belt. He stormed into the satyr’s cell, Lilian shrieking and cowering uselessly while he and the prisoner brawled.

The laughter turned to rowdy shouting, then gradually quieted as Dimitri stepped out of the cell. He was splattered with blood from head to toe, smeared across his face and on his glasses. His entire dagger from blade to hilt, as well as his hand, were stained red.

His violent glare swept all around the room, meeting the eyes of each prisoner. The dungeon quieted to perfect silence as they turned away and backed into the shadows. Dimitri inhaled, then growled loudly, “Let that be a fucking lesson to the rest of you! Next time you feel like having an attitude…” He pointed his blade towards the blood-soaked cell. “Remember this dead bastard and think twice!”

Stepping towards Lilian, he told her sharply, “Go tell Uncle Dario we have a dead bloodbag. But do _not_ , under any circumstance, tell him the cause of death.”

Lilian quirked a thin eyebrow. “Huh? B-b-but how can I do that?”

“Just tell him…I don’t know, tell him the man had a heart attack or something.”

“But I can’t lie, Dimitri!”

Dimitri whipped his glasses off his face, massaging the bridge of his nose. He hissed through his teeth, “Then use your stupid little head and figure something out! If Uncle finds out what happened here, he’ll beat me within an inch of my life, and then I’ll beat _you_ within an inch of yours! Are we clear?”

Lilian’s throat was so tight with anxiety, she couldn’t even force a word out. She simply nodded and rushed out of the dungeon in a flurry of silent tears.

*

It was true that fae could not break the truth. They could only speak what they knew to be true, and that wasn’t always convenient. In some cases, their inability to lie cost them their lives.

Lilian could not lie to Dario, but she could choose her words very carefully. She practiced her words on her dolls for over an hour before she found the courage to face him. Since the lockdown, he spent most of his time in his study, supposedly trying to forge new spells.

That was the first room Lilian checked, and sure enough, she found him hunched over his desk with a feathered pen in his hand, scribbling away on a scroll. There, an extremely complex sigil was drawn.

He seemed to feel Lilian’s presence. He glanced up, saw her peeking through the crack in the door, and said, “Come in, Lilian. What is it?”

Lilian stepped into the study, wringing her hands before her. “Um,” she began, “well, it’s just…Dimitri told me to tell you that one of the cattle had a heart attack.”

Dario stared at her for a moment, narrowing his eyes. “What?” he muttered, more of a statement than a question.

Lilian felt the sweat staining the pits of her fine, lavender dress. Her voice quivered when she told him, “One of the prisoners is dead. There is an empty cell in the dungeon now, so…”

Laying his pen neatly on the side of the desk, Dario rose to his feet and walked towards her. Lilian braced herself, but he only closed the door behind her with a soft click. He leaned his palm against it, the other planted on his hip as he took in a deep breath and let it out slow.

Lilian couldn’t see his face. She couldn’t read him, had no idea what to expect until he turned around and growled, “Impeccable timing, this! Just as Taybiya runs hot and we’re locked down, our blood supply springs a leak!”

He scrubbed his fingers against his forehead. Then he suddenly glared at Lilian and snapped, “Why have you come to tell me this? Do you think I can do anything about it now, while we’re in lockdown? Foolish, bothersome girl! You take pleasure in my misery, don’t you?”

“No, no, Mr. Dusk! Not at all!” blurted Lilian, standing stiffly in the middle of the room. She squeaked when he grasped her by the back of her head, fingers tangling in her black hair.

“Don’t toy with me,” he said, delivering a quick slap to her cheek. “Do you think it’s funny? Do you think it’s cute to torment me day after day, just because you know I am soft for you?”

“No, I…I don’t understand!” Lilian cried. “I don’t mean to torment you, Mr. Dusk, I swear!”

Dario slapped her again. “You’re a wicked thing, whether you _mean_ it or not,” he said through his teeth. Lilian sobbed in his grip, apologizing profusely for things she wasn’t aware she had done.

After a moment, she felt Dario’s grip slowly loosen on her hair. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. Lilian rested her head against him, listening desperately for a pulse. His heart was as cold and still as a winter night.

His tone softened, a world away from how it sounded just a moment before when he said, “There, there, sweet girl. Enough tears. I shouldn’t have lost my temper with you. It isn’t your fault you’re so mortal and imperfect.”

Guiding her towards the desk, he pushed her against its surface and dried her tears with his cold thumbs. “But you will not be mortal forever. It’s only growing pains, and when the time is right, you shall suffer them no more. I am just trying to prepare you for eternity, that’s all. When I raise my voice, when I strike you, you do know it is only because I love you, right?”

“Yes…” mumbled Lilian. Her gaze had fallen into oblivion.

“Then let me have you,” Dario said quietly before crushing his mouth against hers. Lilian jerked, nearly falling backwards onto the desk. She threw a hand back to catch herself.

He seemed everywhere at once, encompassing everything in the room. His hands skittered all over her like a horde of roaches, groping greedily what they could. His fingers tangled in her hair again, pulling her head to the side to expose the white flesh of her throat.

She gasped for air when his lips finally released her mouth in favor of her neck. She felt his fingers close around her wrist, the other fumbling with his trousers. He was nibbling her neck with his blunt elven teeth, but Lilian knew they were just an illusion, for she could feel the scrape of sharp fangs among them.

Dario pulled her hand down the front of his trousers. She felt cold, hard flesh and pulled away from it out of instinct, the way she would pull away from a slug in the garden. Just as soon, Dario withdrew from her neck and slapped her face.

He glared into her eyes. She jumped with fright, for they were glowing bright red. The flesh below his eyes was sagging away and dark as a bruise, a roadmap of equally dark veins drawn over his gray flesh.

Lilian began to panic. Every breath was a wheeze, eyes darting about in desperate search of an escape. He forced her hand down his trousers once more, and she dared not pull away as he guided it where he pleased.

His mouth found its way back to her neck. She could hear his horrid breathing again, like the slavering of an overworked mule. She winced at the press of his fangs, the pressure growing greater with each kiss, threatening to pierce her flesh.

She spotted a letter opener on the desk. It gleamed in the flickering candlelight, a tool of shiny copper. It was sharp and the blade was long—long enough to drive through Dario’s chest and into his black heart. She closed her eyes tightly and forced herself to look away. Such thoughts were very much forbidden.

Dario’s opened his mouth wide and clamped his jaws against her neck. Lilian let out a squeak, body going rigid, bracing for the pain of his piercing fangs. But it never came. Their points pressed against her skin, breaking only the surface layer.

The vampire’s back rose and fell with each ragged breath, hands trembling. He jerked his head away from her, leaving only two shallow indents behind. Lilian quickly swiped at her neck. She felt the slick of saliva, but saw no blood on her palm.

“No…Damn you!” he gasped, shaking his lowered head. His black hair dangled around his face like a curtain. Lilian shrieked as he suddenly shoved her, sending her toppling over the desk. She landed awkwardly in his plush chair on the other side, scrambling to right herself. The scroll, his inkwell, and several papers cascaded to the floor.

Dario rounded the desk and yanked her out of the chair by her neck. He pulled her close, locked her into a passionate kiss, and then slapped her across the face. “You wicked creature! Look at this pig you’ve made of me!” he snarled.

He released her at last, shoving her towards the door. “Get out of my sight!” he ordered, quickly buttoning his trousers. Lilian wasted no time bolting out of the study, slamming the door behind her.

*

_LATE WINTER, 5983_

Lilian’s true 19th birthday came and went in spring. Today was only the anniversary that the Dusks took her into their care. Nevertheless, they ignored her birthday and celebrated this occasion instead with music, dancing, and mirth. Winter was a time of scarcity for most, but for them, it was a time of plenty.

The desperation and loneliness of the season filled their dungeon with cattle. The blood flowed freely into their goblets as they socialized in the dining room. Ivy stood in the corner, playing flowery, bright music on her violin, the very kind Lilian loved most. Vivianne even baked a small cake for her, the icing topped with colorful flower petals.

The cake was lovely and surely delicious, but Lilian couldn’t muster the appetite for more than a bite or two. Her stomach felt uneasy. On top of that, Dario simply wouldn’t leave her alone today, despite how she tried to busy herself. He always seemed to know where she was hiding, tracking her down as swiftly as a hound no matter where she was in the giant castle.

The clan master used to hate her, then he loved her, and now he was just a loathsome pest to her. He shifted between kindness and cruelty like temperamental spring weather. He was praising her one moment and scolding her the next, kissing her one moment and slapping her the next. Then he would go weeks or months without even speaking to her, avoiding her like a diseased rodent.

She certainly couldn’t tell anyone about his pestering, for it was her fault for seducing him in the first place. Lilian told no one except her collection of silent, loyal dolls. She couldn’t wait for the day when she became a perfect immortal like Dario, and then perhaps she would stop her seductive, wicked ways.

Lilian sat at the head of the table, staring down at the beautiful cake she couldn’t finish. Her vampiric family chatted and laughed around her.

“Ah, I can still remember my last birthday,” old Morgana said to her. Her voice creaked like an old tree in the wind. “Years used to be mean something back in those mortal days. Now time is a long, straight road with no end.”

She let out a chuckle, affectionately patting Lilian’s head between her two conical buns. The young elfenne set her fork down and stood up.

“Where are you going, dear? You haven’t even finished your cake,” Vivianne asked when she spotted Lilian leaving the room.

Lilian briefly stopped in the doorway and replied, “I just don’t feel very good, that’s all. I’m going to lie down for a while.”

Dario stood in the back of the room, idly swirling the blood in his goblet. His false brown eyes had been fixated on Lilian all day, and they followed her all the way out of the room.

“Alright,” Vivianne called after her, “rest well, sweet one! Someone will come to check on you later.”

Lilian was in too much pain to bother changing. She shut herself away in her chamber, kicked off her shoes, and curled up on the bed in her ruffled party dress. Her head was pounding, abdomen squeezing like a vice.

Just another burden of being an elfenne, Vivianne once told her. Lilian looked forward to the day when it didn’t happen anymore, when she was walking the endless straight road of time.

She never slept deeply anymore, never dreamed. She always woke at every tiny noise, every creak or shift in the floorboards of the old castle, as if her nerves were on constant alert even at rest. Lilian fell asleep on her bed for some time, but quickly awoke at a change in the air.

The room suddenly got one or two degrees colder—a change that few would notice except Lilian. It made her shudder from her head to her feet. The cold always meant _he_ was nearby.

She shot upright and blinked her bleary eyes. Her elven vision made out vague shapes in the darkness. She couldn’t see, but could _feel_ the cold, black mist surrounding her. It converged at the end of the bed and shaped itself into a tall silhouette. Upon its shadowy face, two red eyes pierced through the darkness and into her soul.

Lilian knew there was no point in fighting this ghoul. All she could do was close her eyes and wait for him to go away. She felt his fingers close around her ankles, dragging her to the end of the mattress. Her feet dangled lifelessly over the edge where he kneeled. His trail of kisses began at her knee and ended at her thigh, where she felt the harsh scrape of fangs and the cold sweep of his tongue.

Hundreds of doll eyes watched silently as their master was violated before them, and Lilian only hoped her little friends wouldn’t think less of her for it. They always kept her secrets, but they never helped her in her times of need.

Warm light suddenly flooded the room. Both Lilian and Dario jumped with a start, turning towards the open door. Ivy stood in the doorway with a plate of birthday cake in her hand, staring back at them with wide, blue eyes.

She saw Lilian lying on the edge of her bed with her dress pulled up over her naval. She saw her husband kneeling between her legs with blood smeared around his mouth. She had seen enough.

Ivy’s blue eyes flashed red and she pitched the plate like a disc. Dario ducked and it sailed passed his head, shattering against the wall. He backed away while Ivy stormed towards Lilian, yanking her off the bed by her hair. Lilian’s conical buns came loose as she writhed and shrieked in Ivy’s grip.

“I take you into my home,” Ivy began through her teeth, delivering slap after slap wherever they would land, “I feed you, clothe you, love you like my own child—and _this_ is how you repay me? By fucking my husband? You wretched, filthy little whore, you!”

With vampiric strength, she lifted Lilian by the throat and threw her. Lilian’s back hit the tall bookshelf, shaking books loose. The young elfenne cowered on the floor as they rained down around her.

Then Ivy’s red eyes fixated on Dario, standing on the other side of the room. She pointed her long, painted nail at him and crowed, “And _you_! Hungering for the flesh of mortals, are you? Just couldn’t control your damn appetite, couldn’t conduct yourself with the same grace and perfection you expect from those beneath you!”

She stormed towards him and he backed away, but she quickly had him pinned against the wall.

“My love, please—” he began.

“Spare me your drivel!” Ivy cried out and thrashed her sharp nails across his face, then kicked him to the floor. She snatched a glass vase off the shelf nearby and broke it over his head for good measure.

Dario fell flat on his back. White lights danced in his vision. He blinked them away and saw Ivy looming above him, ghoulish and quaking with fury. She stepped on his chest. He gnashed his teeth in pain as she dug the pointed heel of her shoe in, threatening to pierce it down into his heart.

“I should kill both of you right here, right now,” she seethed, throwing a glance back at Lilian. She turned back to Dario and continued, “But I am not the raging, selfish, narcissist you are, _my love_. It would break my cold, dead heart to see this clan fracture to pieces, all because _you_ got caught being a deviant! How long have you been betraying me, hm?”

Dario grunted in pain, black blood trickling from the four long scratches on his face. “Does it truly matter?” he croaked.

He tossed his head back, growling in agony as she dug her heel in further, ribs creaking in protest. “No. At this point, I suppose it doesn’t,” she hissed, then finally, she stepped off of him. Planting her hands on her hips, she stared silently at the floor as if in contemplation.

Lilian dared not move from her position on the floor, nor did Dario. Ivy’s gaze swept between each of them as she said, “You two are going to clean yourselves up and we shall go about our lives as usual. You shall not speak of this to anyone. Nor shall I, under a few conditions…”

She narrowed her eyes at Dario. “From this night forward, _you_ bend your knee to _me_. I shall take your place clan master and you shall be but my pretty little pet. You will obey me, you will not question me, and you will not raise your voice or your hand at me again.”

“Preposterous!” Dario growled. “I have led this clan for centuries—far longer than I’ve been fucking you, you classless witch!”

“Then perhaps I’ll just tell the others what I saw tonight,” Ivy snapped back, gesturing towards Lilian. “Will they still trust in their master if they knew he was consorting with a mortal? The very mortal he raised from a child, no less! You sick mongrel, have you no dignity at all? If you’re so willing to betray your own wife, what keeps you from betraying the rest of them? They’d burn you alive for this treachery and you know it!”

Dario clenched his teeth behind closed lips, quivering with anger. A long, ragged gust passed through his nostrils, deflating his chest. He had nothing to say, for he knew she was right.

“Look at you. You are not even remorseful for what you’ve done, are you?” Ivy went on. “Your only regret is that you got caught. Dirty _pig_.” Her ghoulish face scrunched in disgust. She spat in Dario’s direction, then took Lilian’s wrist and pulled her to her feet.

“I-I never meant t-to seduce him, Mrs. Dusk,” Lilian stammered. She stiffened when Ivy raised her hand, but it was only to caress her face.

“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t, dear girl,” Ivy told her softly. “But the issue remains that you are mortal, you are sweet and pure and so very beautiful, and you are trapped in a cage with a feral predator that thirsts for the life in your veins…”

Ivy dragged her hands down the sides of Lilian’s head, resting them upon her neck. “I didn’t plan for things to happen this way. This is about two decades premature, but I will be damned before I let this debauchery continue. I am sorry, Lilian, but we must spoil your lovely blood tonight.”

She squeezed Lilian by her neck and threw her towards Dario. Quick as a flash, Dario shot to his feet and caught the mortal before she could hit the floor. Lilian cowered against him, trembling with fear. But his arms were no safe haven, nor were Ivy’s. Nowhere and no one was safe anymore.

“If you want her so badly, then _you_ turn her,” Ivy commanded Dario. Dario glanced down at Lilian, then back to his wife. He hesitated for too long. Ivy cocked her head and added sharply, “What’s the matter, Dario? You certainly weren’t shy about putting your mouth on her earlier! You clearly thirst for her blood, so go on, have your fill! Take a deep drink and savor it, because it shall be your last!” Her tone carried a hard, bitter edge that made her husband wince.

Dario glared at Ivy for a long moment. He wore a scowl on his ghoulish face, lips pressed into a thin line. Lilian could hear each furious breath leave his nostrils. She broke the hard silence, stammering softly, “Y-you’re going to make me…immortal? Like you?”

She felt Dario’s nails dig into her shoulder. A silent warning, she realized, to keep her mouth shut. She said nothing more as the tension rose between the two vampires.

“She isn’t ready for this,” growled Dario. “She’s too young and ignorant to weild the power we do.”

Ivy snapped back, “Yet she’s mature enough to be ravaged like a bar wench? Just bite her, you despicable fool! Bite her now or the entire clan will know what you really are!”

Ivy stormed towards them and seized Lilian by her hair, pulling her head back to expose her pale throat. Lilian gnashed her teeth, eyes watering at the pull on her scalp. “Mr. and Mrs. Dusk, I’m so sorry! Please—!” she begged, but she was interrupted by her own screech as Dario plunged his fangs into her neck.

Raising a hand against any Dusk was an unthinkable crime. Yet the pain was so intense, her fear so great, that Lilian found herself swinging her fists against them both, desperately trying to push Dario away. He was fastened tightly as a leech to the burning wound. Lilian felt like a rabbit caught in the jaws of a wolf, felt each agonizing throb as he sucked mouthfuls of blood from her.

Darkness crept into the corners of her vision. She saw Ivy glaring down at her, and then she slipped away into a cold, dark void.

*

At long last, Lilian understood what the “ritual master” did when she woke up on the stone altar in the courtyard. A half-moon was glowing above, spring rain pouring down. The ritual proceeded despite the foul weather and the lackluster moon, with Morgana the ritual master at the forefront.

She stood closest to Lilian with a bowl in her hands, the other Dusks surrounding the altar in a circle. Each of them were shrouded in black cloaks, their red eyes glowing beneath the shadows of their hoods. They dropped their guises for the occasion, exposing their true, hideous vampiric forms.

Lilian’s body ached terribly from head to toe. She wobbled as she sat upright, swinging her legs over the side of the altar. She looked around in confusion, the Dusks staring back with a wide range of expressions.

Dimitri wore a wicked grin, Ivy’s lips curved into a tiny smile, tears dropping from Vivianne’s eyes as Morgana began, “She awakens now, this newborn daughter of the night! We welcome her into our family, our clan, as one of our own.”

“We welcome her into our family, our clan, as one of our own,” the other Dusks repeated.

Morgana went on, “We vow to sate her bloodthirst as she learns to hunt.”

“We vow to sate her bloodthirst as she learns to hunt.”

“We vow to teach her the spells of our kin.”

“We vow to teach her the spells of our kin.”

“We vow to protect her from worldly dangers.”

“We vow to protect her from worldly dangers.”

“We vow to do these things,” continued Morgana, “so long as she vows to do the same for her clan. Do you, Lilian Dusk, swear loyalty to all in this circle?”

Lilian blinked, trying to steady her dizzy head. Her response was quick and automatic, emerging from a lifetime of being punished for every ‘no’ she uttered.

“Yes.”

Morgana offered the bowl and said, “Then drink, my child, and may you be forever nourished.”

Lilian carefully took the bowl from her. It was full of red blood. Though the coppery stench usually disgusted her, Lilian found herself suddenly attracted to it. Without question, she drank down every last drop and passed the bowl back.

Only then did she notice the flesh of her hands, how ghastly and veinous they looked. Lilian’s jaw fell slack at the sight. She touched her face, then her neck. No pulse pushed back against her fingertips, and when she pressed her palm to her heart, it did not beat.

“I’m…I’m a…” she began, looking all around at her family.

“You are a mortal no longer,” Morgana explained. “Your nineteenth birthday was your last. I do hope you enjoyed your cake, for worldly food will no longer sustain you. You must feed on the blood of mortals from this night forward, and so you shall for all your everlasting life.”

She waved her hand and added, “Unless, of course, someone should behead you or stab you through the heart. But we did vow to protect you from all that nonsense, did we not?”

Lilian looked down at her bare feet. They were as cold as the stone platform below. She was dressed in a white ceremonial gown with long, ruffled sleeves, made damp by the rain.

Then she scanned the circle of faces until she found Dario’s. It was still scarred from Ivy’s wrath. He refused to meet her gaze, red eyes fixated on the ground. Morgana turned to him and asked, “Clan Master Dario, you are the one who turned this mortal. What will her relationship be to you?”

He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh through his nostrils. “She is my daughter, Ritual Master,” he answered stiffly.

“Lady Ivy,” continued Morgana, “As Dario’s wife, do you accept this fledgling to be your daughter as well?”

Ivy answered with a wry smile, “Yes, Ritual Master.”

Morgana smiled. “Ah, splendid! It took seven long centuries, but it looks like I finally have myself a granddaughter! Well done, you two.”

Quiet laughter rumbled through the circle. To Lilian, Morgana said, “Under the watchful moon, I declare you, Lilian, daughter of Ivy and Dario Dusk, bound by fang, loyalty, and love. You are one of us. The ritual is complete.”

A round of applause spread over the circle. There was a strange, uncertain energy among the vampires, and Lilian could tell that they were just as confused as she. This ritual was not supposed to happen. Not tonight, not so suddenly. But the circumstances that led up to this would remain in the dark, and so too would Lilian as she travelled the endless road of time.

Later in the night, Lilian experienced her first dinner as a vampire. She ate not food from a plate by herself, but instead, drank blood from a goblet with her clan.

“Now that you are a Dusk,” began Ivy to Lilian, “it is your responsibility to expand our clan even further. You must go out into the world and find a panther among the pigs. That is to say, a handsome elf among ugly hobs. Find a worthy mortal to marry and do so as soon as possible.” Her eyes shifted to her husband, narrowing with contempt. “If that’s alright with our _clan master,_ of course.”

Dario was seated at the head of the table as usual, his posture hunched over like a wilted rose. His long hair obscured his face, voice low and defeated when he said, “Yes, Lilian. Go forth and bring home a good husband. But first, I shall teach you all the spells you will need to protect yourself in the world outside, just as I promised so long ago.”

*

_SPRING, 5984_

Lilian shut herself in the tavern bathroom. She checked twice that the door was locked, then stepped in front of the wash basin. The water inside was grimy and she didn’t intend to use it. She was more interested in the mirror hanging above it.

Her reflection looked back at her, ghoulish and foul. The reflection’s flesh was pale and mottled like a corpse, but when she held her hands up in front of her, they appeared healthy beige to her eyes.

Many believed that vampires had no reflection. Lilian used to believe that herself. Now she knew better, that they did indeed have reflections, but their magical guise did not. Mirrors would always show them for what they truly were, so she was cautioned to find every mirror in a new location and avoid them at all cost.

This tavern was not her usual haunt in the western slums. It was a sturdy building in the northern outskirts, by no means a palace but certainly not a dump either. It seemed the only mirror to be found was in the bathroom, so she made her exit and walked out to the bar. The patrons weren’t the usual riffraff she was used to. Most of them seemed like working men, for they were dressed in dirty boots, coveralls, gloves, and armor.

Lilian straightened the hem of her short, pink dress, scanning the room for a handsome elf to bring home to her clan. “It doesn’t matter if you love him or not,” Ivy told her before she left. “You will learn to love him in time, and we’ll make sure he will have no choice but to love _you_.”

A head of ivory hair caught her eye. He sat alone at a table in the back of the room, surrounded by empty bottles. Though his eyes were glazed and bloodshot with intoxication, his beauty shined through like rays of the sun. His complexion was like rich copper, contrasting with the long, white hair that cascaded from his head to his back. It was as if his face had been carved from marble by an old master.

Lilian shook out the quiver in her hands and approached him. She slipped into the empty chair across from his and flashed a big, white smile lined with glossy lips. “Hello there,” she greeted.

The elf blinked a few times, furrowing his brow as he looked her up and down. “Uh, hello yourself. Are you selling something?”

Lilian braided her fingers together and rested her chin upon them. “No. I’m just lonely, that’s all,” she told him. “You caught my eye from all the way across the room, stranger. What’s your name?”

The elf knocked back the last of his drink and set the bottle aside. “Zeffer Vengelor,” he answered. “And yours?”

“I’m Lilian. Lilian Dusk.” She extended her hand for a shake. Zeffer grinned as he took it into his own and planted a kiss on her knuckles.

“Well, pleasure to meet you, Lilian,” he said.

Lilian giggled, “Likewise! Handsome _and_ charming? I must be dreaming! I’d like to get to know you a little better, Zeffer.”

A crooked, drunken grin spread across Zeffer’s face, forming dimples at the corners of his mouth. “Heh, really? A gorgeous thing like you wants to know a slob like me? This isn’t some kind of prank, right?”

Lilian took his hand and stood up, pulling him into her arms. She stroked her fingers through his long hair and whispered, “Why don’t you come home with me and find out?”

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Feedback is always appreciated, positive or negative. I always want to improve my writing.
> 
> Moswen better watch out…Dario’s coming to snatch her “Most Evil Villain” award. This kind of subject matter is difficult to write, and I hope I did so in a way that’s tasteful and not hamfisted or exploitative. If you noticed anything uncool, please let me know in the comments and I’ll definitely take it into consideration.
> 
> Otherwise, I hope you enjoyed this horrible story. This particular arc continues in “Monster by Moonlight” and is planned to continue on in future stories too, so keep an eye out if you want to see what becomes of poor Lilian. Hopefully this gives a little more context as to why the vampires seemed so weird and desperate in MBM.
> 
> As always, you can find concept art, discussions, dumb memes and more on the Looming Gaia blog: https://loominggaia.tumblr.com/post/175087795478/looming-gaia-masterpost


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